A Hundred Ways Rodney Felt Pain
by x Varda x
Summary: ...in both mind and body. One hundred short scenes for the fabled Fanfic100 Challenge from LiveJournal. Now complete!
1. Death

_I'm such a sucker for a challenge, so I've succumbed to the fanfic100 challenge over on LiveJournal. The mission is to write 100 stories (all at least 100 words long) based in one fandom and using the given (often single word) prompts. My regular readers (hi, guys!) will know that I'm a Rodney McKay whumper, so I've chosen my favourite theme for this collection._

_I've decided that I'm going to write drabbles, rather than fully fledged stories. These are chapters that are less than 1000 words long and are usually short scenes or reflections on a character's thoughts at a particular moment._

_**Death**_

He stood still and tilted his head down as he furrowed his brow at the body on the ground. Such beauty in life was now gone in death and he could not process the emotions flooding his system.

"Come on, McKay, we need to get moving!" Sheppard called out to him.

"I…I…" but words failed him.

Rodney McKay; never one to admire nature's enchantment, but rather the stunning symmetry he found within lines of code or technology, had been rendered speechless.

He thought they should all stop and mourn the loss, or at least acknowledge the passing of another being.

A hand on his arm brought him back.

"I'm really sorry, Rodney, but we'll have to leave it."

A bright chirruping above lifted his eyes up to the canopy and even through the sorrow he smiled. For many blue, green and yellow birds were looking down on him and he knew they would continue to lament the fall of their friend in song, long after he had gone.

McKay took a last look at the brightly plumaged bird on the ground and sighed sadly before he rejoined his teammates.


	2. Colourless

**_Colourless_**

Rodney sat in the briefing room in agony.

A fire burned in his throat and spread down into his chest like a licking flame. It throbbed up into a tight band encircling his head and squeezed the sharp, stabbing headache he had courtesy of only being able to catch one hour of sleep the night before.

"So, what do you think, Dr McKay?" The muffled voice of Mr Woolsey asked.

"Yes, yes, fine," Rodney croaked distractedly and winced at the end. The movement of his larynx and mouth to form only three words had just added a collection of slicing buzz saws to the fire.

"What's wrong, McKay?"

He looked up from his silent misery and saw John peering down at him in concern. He had not even noticed when the meeting had ended and all but John and himself remained.

John raised an eyebrow and said, "You look like crap."

"Thanks," Rodney whispered.

"Come on."

The next thing Rodney knew, he was sitting on a bed in the infirmary. His nose stung like a cheese grater was being run up and down inside the delicate passageway. He breathed heavily through his gritted teeth.

John looked at him and handed him a box. Rodney lifted his aching arms and accepted it.

Jennifer came back a moment later. John waved a hand at Rodney and asked, "So, what's the prognosis, Doc? Is he dying?"

"No." She pursed her lips as she turned to Rodney and gave him another, much smaller box.

She said, "You have a common cold. Take some of these painkillers, drink plenty of fluids and get some rest."

Rodney had drawn a tissue out of the box John had given him and blew his nose loudly. He spoke nasally, "No going offworld then?"

"Not for a few days, no."

Rodney grimaced as he wiped his nose with the tissue and Jennifer furrowed her brow at him. He coughed quietly and cringed as the motion irritated his scraped raw sore throat further.

Rodney did not recall how he made it back to his quarters, but he had a vague recollection of a comforting grip on his arm guiding him into the transporter and through the corridors. It had now gone though and he was alone.

Rodney could only breathe through his mouth. He took a couple of the pills and drank as much water as he could. It did not quench the fire in his throat and he closed his eyes sadly. He blew his nose again and flopped down onto the bed so that he did not fall over through tiredness.

He was asleep even before the painkillers started working.


	3. Too Much

**_Too Much_**

In his nightmares, Rodney McKay is not shot by his team mate and left to bleed and die in agony.

Neither is he alone while Kolya tortures him with a knife.

He does not see Carson to be reminded of how he let his friend down and caused his death.

He is not trapped, freezing cold and in pain in a slowly sinking Puddle Jumper.

He is not even chased by deadly citrus fruit or eaten by a whale.

Nor does he see Elizabeth's face looking back at him and smiling.

He is never running around on his own on a Wraith ship waiting to be stunned and trapped.

He does not see Zelenka and Sheppard besting him with ease as he flounders and fails.

He does not die by degrees as he slowly loses his mind and forgets his name.

He is never haunted by the dead figure of Jennifer lying on the floor in a freezer in front of him.

He never experiences Wraith feeding, nor is he forced to watch in helplessness as they cull Earth before him.

So, what does Rodney McKay have nightmares about, you ask? Rodney McKay never has any nightmares, because he hardly ever sleeps. Instead, he stays awake for as long as possible until only his exhaustion can chase them away.


	4. How?

_**How?**_

Rodney stood in the middle of a crowded room. He huffed in anger as the boisterous people collided with him in close quarters. All he wanted to do was reach the food table to try and alleviate his boredom. The room doubled as a banquet hall, but there were too many people in there so the chairs had been cleared away.

Teyla, Sheppard and Ronon were deep in trade negotiations and had left him to mingle, "With the commoners," he muttered bitterly as a large man trod on his foot.

Although Sheppard's comment of, "There's a food table over there," had not been entirely lost on him. His mind filled in the blanks, "Be a good scientist. Have fun… but keep out of our way."

He reached the table and sighed. His chest was tight and he could feel a claustrophobic panic attack coming on in the cramped room. He knew he needed food soon as his hypoglycaemia was making him light headed. He grumbled angrily and then rolled his eyes at the ornate golden cutlery on the table in front of him.

"Laying out the good stuff for the guests?" he asked no-one in particular.

His chest itched, so he absently reached up and his hand bumped against something.

"Hmm?"

His roaming fingers curled around a cold and hard object, but he was still looking at the table. He did not remember packing anything that felt like that in his tac vest.

He looked down.

He frowned when he saw the intricate design on the metal he was holding. He did a double take of the cutlery on the table and his eyes settled on the tray of knives.

"Oh!" He said quietly, "If only the handle is visible… that means…"

He picked up one of the implements and turned it over to study the sharp point. He quickly dropped it with a loud clatter and there was a momentary lull in the noisy conversation around him before it continued.

Rodney was unsure whether to sit or even lie down as the shock blotted out all rational thoughts. A cold sweat formed on his forehead and the blood drained from his face as his rapid heartbeat pulsed in his throat. What should someone with a knife jutting from their chest do?

"Sheppard," he said to the table; he would know what to do.

Rodney made his way through the crowd and located a man dressed all in black with messy hair.

"Sheppard?"

"Not now, McKay."

Rodney shook his head to clear the weariness and then found Teyla, "Uh, I need your help."

She was smiling serenely at one of the other guests from the planet as he engaged her in animated conversation.

"In a few moments, Rodney," she said with her lips barely moving.

He went to Ronon next, but he disappeared into the crowd before Rodney could get close enough.

Rodney felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He tried Sheppard again, "John…" he gasped, "Help!"

His knees buckled and he fell. Reflexive hands caught and eased him down to the floor gently as he collapsed. The pain had now started and he closed his eyes. He wondered why it had only just begun; not realising how badly hurt he was was more of a Sheppard thing.

The last thing Rodney saw was the team who had ignored him, now standing around his prone form with their guns raised outwards to protect him.


	5. Red

**_Red_**

Rodney saw red.

He shouted in anger, "What the hell did you think you were doing, Colonel?"

John was standing back and letting McKay rant and rave as he patiently waited for the scientist to finish.

"Your gene activated it! It could be draining the power from Atlantis' ZedPM right now! We'll be installing solar panels by the end of the week at this rate."

Rodney rubbed the side of his face and then started rapidly tapping on the console in front of him. Wires hung down from the ceiling and stretched out taut as they intersected with the centre of the panel Rodney was standing next to.

John leant back on the wall just behind him. Rodney would tut every few seconds and sigh. His eyebrows were so close to his eyes in a deep frown that John considered saying, "You know, don't do that too much, McKay, or you might stay like it." He held his tongue though as he did not wish to irritate Rodney any more.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes as he noticed some of the wires moving and getting even tighter.

"McKay?"

"I'm busy!"

"But the wires."

"I told you, I'm on it!"

One of the wires suddenly snapped and whipped across Rodney as he stood there. He cried out in pain as it hit him.

Sheppard then also saw red. But this red was a different and much darker shade than what Rodney had seen in his anger. It was blood; Rodney's blood. It started to flow from a deep slash across his arm and dripped down onto the floor from the wound.

Rodney watched its progress with his eyes wide in shock as his hands instantly stilled on the console.

Sheppard quickly went over and pulled a bandage out of his tac vest. Rodney had stopped shouting and his face was getting paler as the flush in his skin from the anger faded in fright. He tapped another command with his uninjured arm and the lights dimmed and went out. The low hum of power vanished.

Sheppard guided him out of the lab and over to the nearest transporter. He kept a firm grip on the bandage as he pulled Rodney along behind him and dragged the scientist to the infirmary.


	6. Years

**_Years_**

Rodney stood alone in front of a locked door on Atlantis. He frowned as the frustration which had been building over the last few hours caught up with him. He heaved out a massive sigh, so deep that even his voice growled at the end.

The door was just one more mystery of Atlantis he had not solved even after all the years he had been there. Another thing he would never know. Because even in his vast knowledge and understanding there would always be more he could not comprehend, more to learn and discover. It excited him at the same time as annoying and terrifying him.

He swapped the crystals around again and plugged his tablet into a different socket.

He worked for another hour and his stomach murmured in hunger as he carried on. He was supposed to be a genius and he would not let himself be defeated by a door.

He cried, "You _will_ yield your secrets to me!" But it stubbornly remained closed.

A few minutes later he heard footsteps approaching and turned to face them in fear.

Sheppard was leading and Rodney saw Teyla, Ronon and Zelenka behind him. They were wheeling something along the floor between them.

Sheppard handed Rodney a power bar and he ate it as Sheppard moved him out of the way. The rest of Rodney's team then set to work and slowly cut through the closed door with the blowtorch they had brought with them.

This particular door had actually been annoying Rodney since he had first discovered it many years ago. He saw it in his mind and could never find a way of opening it on his own.

Unlike the years before he had come to Atlantis, he could no longer only rely on himself to figure things out. As much as it pained and wilted his ego, he had to accept that sometimes he needed help to reach his goal. In the past he would have been content to work alone in his quest for knowledge, but now that he had friends and like minded colleagues to help him out, he was no longer afraid to let them.

The others finally cut through the door and it fell away. Rodney made a move to go through, despite his fear that whatever was within the room may hurt him, but Sheppard's hand on his chest stopped him.

"I'll go first," he said.

And he did.


	7. Snow

**_Snow_**

Snow was supposed to be white. Not pink and certainly not red.

Rodney was as frozen in movement as the icy water particles hiding his numb hands in their cold caress as he crawled through the wintry world on his hands and knees.

He coughed again and another bright red splatter appeared on the snow. He knelt back and turned to see where he had been.

There were stumbling foot holes which were rapidly being covered by the flakes slowly dancing down from the sky. A few metres behind him, the steps changed into a single furrow where he had fallen. The drag became narrower where he had started to crawl. He was unsure where he was or where he was going, but a strongly accented voice told him to keep moving and that it would keep him alert.

He frowned when he saw that the snow immediately behind him had changed colour too. It looked like gory red icing on the massive soft cake he was on.

He was finding it hard to stay upright on his knees, so he fell down onto his hands. His vision was filled with white and the red tinting faded from his sight and no longer marred the clean perfection of the covered ground.

The new type of snow blindness was caused by a broken rib which had turned into a blade in his chest. It stabbed and sliced him inside as he fell right down and rolled over. He kept going until he was lying flat on his back.

He thought of angels as he lay sprawled there, but he could not contemplate moving his unfeeling arms and legs.

He shivered and the blade twisted. The shadows flitting down from above were settling on him. He pondered the flickering whiteness of untuned televisions. How could it be called snow when there was so much darkness between the white dots?

"'McKay, the lifelike snowman.' That's all they'll find," he thought sadly and closed his eyes. The shards of ice kissed his face and eyelids where they landed and he was distracted from the pain for a moment.

A large shadow suddenly blocked the whiteout and a gentle touch rested over his chest.

"Are you an angel or a snow queen?" he asked weakly.

The figure answered, "McKay, it's Sheppard. What happened to you?"

"Sh-Sheppard? I thought they caught you? I was trying to get help…"

He coughed again, a wet, hacking, painful sound. The snow which was slowly burying him was diluted by the warm liquid he choked out of his mouth. It ran down his face and coloured the white underneath him in crimson frosting.

The face above him said, "We escaped. Had to get back to the Jumper to find you. Come on."

The swirling, macabre crystals of death quickly vanished as he was lifted and moved into the waiting ship. He felt the new warmth flowing through him and welcomed the embrace as his eyelids slowly drifted down like the snow itself and he knew no more.


	8. Stars

**_Stars_**

Rodney found himself running away from something once again. He concentrated on his footing as he stumbled through the dense pine forest. His breath came in harsh gasps as he fled the villagers' knives and arrows on yet another offworld mission gone awry.

A hand against his back forced him to run faster and his legs nearly gave out under him. His throat burned and his protesting muscles ached so much he was surprised that he was still upright.

He jumped over potholes and branches and splashed in muddy puddles and trenches as he tried to keep up with Teyla and Sheppard in front of him. Ronon was behind, and infuriatingly, he did not even seem to be out of breath. Or at least McKay could not hear it above his own rushing blood and heavy breathing.

He came across a large fallen tree trunk about knee high. He looked up for long enough to see Teyla and Sheppard clearing it with athletic ease and not even breaking their pace.

Rodney inwardly shrugged and lifted his leading foot higher. At that moment, his leg muscles finally decided that they had had enough. He felt a inexorable resistance against his flagging left foot behind him as his exhaustion did not give him the required strength to lift it high enough for the rest of him to make it over the obstruction.

The forest spun rapidly down and a hard impact to Rodney's head caused momentary darkness.

The first things he saw when he woke up again were pinpricks of light obscuring his vision. They slowly faded until he could see the underside of the tree canopy moving past above him. He groaned as a sudden nausea gripped his belly and his throat closed up.

"Stop! Stop!" he whined.

Ronon put him down where he had been carrying him. Rodney stumbled and fingered the bandage around his throbbing head. His unsteady feet took him a short distance where he promptly retched the contents of his stomach into the nearest bush.

The overwhelming dizziness threatened to take him down and more points of light tainted the edges of his sight and closed in until he could hardly see.

Ronon supported and helped Rodney find his feet as he steered him the rest of the way to the gate.

His mind blacked out again and when he awoke, he was lying on a gurney being rushed down the hallway back on Atlantis. Medical personnel surrounded him, but they were looking down the corridor and did not notice he was conscious.

He mumbled, "Stars," through the oxygen mask as more appeared in front of his eyes like a myriad of tiny supernovae. They burst and prickled his vision with their unwelcome light. The points were then against black as the ceiling faded out and then they were gone entirely.


	9. Family

**_Family_**

Rodney clicked on the incoming email he had just received via the regular dial in to Earth. It was from Jeannie and he wondered what his sister had been up to this time.

His eyes scanned the lines. It was just some fluff about Madison and another ballet recital. She had even attached a picture at the end of the email with herself and Kaleb standing behind their daughter in her performance clothes. They were all grinning at the camera, frozen forever in that moment of happiness.

Rodney smiled involuntarily, but suddenly his face dropped and he furrowed his brow. For he had no children of his own and he was not exactly getting any younger. He had never even considered it until that moment just a few seconds ago, when he had seen the picture and his buried paternal instincts suddenly let him know they existed. He always made out that he hated children, so he had no idea where the emotions had come from.

He had another look and his sadness intensified to such a point that he thought his heart was going to break. He quickly closed the email and the offending picture vanished.

He could still see it in his mind's eye and he knew he had to get out of the lab in case he was caught in his moment of weakness by one of his minions. He would never live it down if they found a way to undermine his authority.

He unplugged the computer and walked out of the room with it tucked under his arm.

"There's always Jennifer," he thought a few minutes later, as he made his way out onto a balcony, far away from the central tower where no one would come looking for him. But their relationship was so new, he could not think about such serious things just when they were getting used to each other.

Rodney walked up to the railing and put his computer down. He gripped the metal bar and inhaled the breeze rolling off the ocean.

He held on tightly as he thought about the future. He knew he would just have to bury his emotions and sorrow until the time was right. That was if the time ever came.

"And if it didn't?"

Then he knew he would just have to live with it and steel himself to face the future alone and the end of the McKay family name.


	10. Yellow

**_Yellow_**

"I can feel my skin stretching and blistering in this heat," Rodney complained honestly.

"Aren't you wearing your sun cream?" Sheppard asked.

"Yes," he snapped. "But it doesn't stop me being hot!" He felt anger building up inside him.

His team mates ignored his moaning, even as his feet sunk so deeply into the fine sand with every step that the grains flowed over the opening of each shoe.

He had sunglasses on, but there was only one colour filling his vision on the desert world.

Sheppard laughed as they crested the top of a high dune, but the sound was devoid of any happiness. "Well, we've got the sand, but where's the beach?"

"And the scantily clad women," Rodney added with a sly smile.

Ronon smirked and Teyla rolled her eyes at the men.

The twin suns shone down and after a while Teyla said, "This heat is most unpleasant. Where is the energy reading, Dr McKay?"

Rodney was pressing the skin of his right forearm, checking for burns. He abruptly stopped and folded his arms over his chest, "See, even Teyla says this place is awful!" He waved up at the suns and grimaced, "We'll all get instant skin cancer in this inferno. We should have brought a Jumper instead of going on this death march."

Ronon looked indifferent as he spoke, "You said the reading was, 'close to the gate,' McKay."

"It_ was!_" Rodney whined. He lowered his voice and said under his breath, "But it's moved away now."

Sheppard sighed and spun around to look at him sternly. Rodney flinched back and was glad he could not see his team leader's eyes. He only saw the endless sea of sand reflected in the sunglasses.

"Why is it moving away from us?" Sheppard asked.

"I don't know!" McKay squeaked indignantly, "Maybe your hair scared it away."

"Or it heard your whining," Ronon mumbled.

"How far?" Sheppard asked in disappointment.

Rodney drew his scanner forward miserably and said, "Ten miles."

Ronon grunted, "That's not far."

"It is in this sauna! Especially when your feet have been rubbed raw by sandpaper and your skin's crispy burnt and hanging off!"

Teyla winced and Sheppard's face fell as he said, "Alright, you win, McKay. Let's get a Jumper."

Rodney smiled smugly, but quickly stopped when his dry lips split open.

They all turned around and retraced their rapidly fading foot holes in the shifting sand back to the gate.

Rodney knew there was sand chafing the skin in between his toes and it felt like he was bleeding. He doubted whether he would be able to walk at all very soon. He looked at the scanner again sadly and the energy reading was now completely out of range.


	11. Birthday

**_Birthday_**

Rodney sat at his computer in the main science lab just before dinnertime. He was alone and had been for most of the day. He had not gone up to the mess hall for lunch. Instead, he had opted for a hastily eaten power bar at 3pm when he had started to feel dizzy with hunger and he could no longer ignore his body's needs.

He sighed sadly as his ebb diminished lower with every passing minute. He had expected something by now. Not even Sheppard had contacted him.

He kept the exact date secret, but was surprised that no-one had ever even bothered to check or make a note to remember.

He wasn't that unpopular, was he?

He sat there as the downward spiral of misery coiled ever tighter until a lump formed in his throat and he felt like he was suffocating in his sorrow.

He had tried so hard not to care in the past when his previous colleagues had been content just to ignore him. He had been able to accept it and endeavoured to move on without letting it get to him.

But he had friends on Atlantis… Well, at least he thought he had.

Now he wasn't so sure.

Dinnertime was long gone by the time Sheppard came to the lab. He looked angry and Rodney grimaced and furrowed his brow at the telling off he was about to receive.

"Not today," he begged in his mind. "_Please_, not today! Today's supposed to be special. It's my day."

John said, "Weir wants to see you."

"About what?" His voice barely rose above a dread filled mumble.

"Dunno."

Rodney frowned at John. The other man held up his hands as he widened his eyes innocently and said, "Honestly, I don't!"

Rodney sighed and stood up. He dragged his heels as he followed Sheppard to his fate.

"Hey, this isn't the control room!" Rodney said a few minutes later as they went up a corridor.

Hope built in his heart and the corners of his mouth turned up involuntarily.

John shoved him into the darkened mess hall. Suddenly the lights came on and Rodney had a fleeting glimpse of many eager faces before there was a roar of, "Happy Birthday!"

Rodney nearly shrieked in fright, but he managed to calm himself and stutter, "Uh… oh! Thanks!"

He held a hand over his chest as his heart pounded and threatened to break free from his ribcage and fly away.

John patted him on the back and announced, "You sure kept it quiet, McKay."

The gathered people laughed and someone, somewhere, put some music on. They began to mingle and Rodney walked over to Ronon and Teyla.

Teyla smiled and handed him a small parcel. She said, "I was told that it is a custom to give gifts when someone adds another number to their age in order to mark the passing of the year."

Rodney took the package and unwrapped it. It was a small wooden sculpture of an animal.

Teyla said, "I believe this animal is a close likeness to the domestic cat on Earth. I thought you might like it."

Rodney smiled and studied the intricate stripes of the animal as he rolled it over in his hand. He said, "Thanks, Teyla. I used to have a cat…" he looked down at the ground and blinked slowly.

Ronon reached up into his hair and pulled out a decorated knife. Rodney held up his hands and backed away as Ronon held the handle of the blade. Ronon quickly flipped it over and handed it to him hilt first.

Rodney took it in his free hand and looked at the design on the metal. He said, "Uh, thanks."

Ronon grunted, "It's a ceremonial blade from Sateda. The one who carries it has proven themselves to be a true warrior in battle many times."

Rodney smiled again and raised his eyebrows. Ronon smirked as he patted Rodney's back hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

Rodney looked at John expectantly. Sheppard pulled out a large chocolate bar. Rodney thought he had seen Teyla passing it to him a moment ago so it had not melted. He smiled and said, "Thanks."

John grinned back and shook his head, "That's not it though!"

Rodney was confused, until John gave him an envelope. Rodney opened it and read the card inside.

_**By the request of Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, this entitles Dr Rodney McKay to a day off. He may choose to spend this day however he likes (within reason) and will not be interrupted.**_

_**Signed, Dr Elizabeth Weir**_

Rodney looked up at John after he had finished reading. John shrugged, "You did say you wanted to take a Jumper over to the mainland and check out that beach…"

Rodney smiled as he remembered seeing the yellow sand from the window of the Jumper when they had been investigating an energy reading on the mainland a while ago. It had looked warm and enticing as the band of yellow marked the transition of the blue sea into green palm trees. There was no scientific merit in such a trip though, so he had sadly had to bury the wish in his massive vault of things he knew he would never do.

"We're coming with you though…" John added with a sly smile.

Rodney just grinned back and chuckled happily.


	12. Choices

**_Choices_**

If only Rodney had stayed in his lab instead of coming to the mess hall.

If only he had chosen the salad instead of the fresh salmon recently delivered by the Daedalus.

If he had done those things, then he probably would not have been flopping around on the floor, like said fish, as his throat rapidly swelled and blocked the passage of air into his lungs.

He felt a hand rolling him over and a minute pause.

_Which leg?_

He soon found out when there was a sharp stabbing pain in his left thigh.

_Who had done it though? Who had relieved his death by lemon sauce?_

His heart raced as the adrenaline flooded his system and his breathing eased to a laboured wheeze instead of gasping on nothing. He knew which he preferred out of those two options.

It was Sheppard. Rodney was not surprised. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes again.

"Hey, hey! Stay awake!"

_No thanks_, he thought. _Sleep is so much better than listening to the rattle and rasp of my chest and barely open windpipe._

Sheppard was insistent though and patted Rodney's face. "Keller's on her way."

Rodney's hammering heart sped up.

A hand grabbed his own and strength radiated through him from the contact like a new type of drug to either guide or ignore. He allowed the reassuring touch to lead him down the more difficult path of remaining conscious and continuing to breathe while he waited.

He opened his eyes just in time to see the beautiful doctor peering at him in concern.

"You're so pretty," he said, but his stupid constricted voice only produced a thoroughly unappealing choked gurgle.

He knew it was probably not the best time for professing his undeniable attraction to Jennifer. But it was either then or wait and see if he ever woke up again. He could not take that risk.

She laid her hand on his forehead briefly and he closed his eyes again. They lifted him up and bore him away, pumping him full of a vast cocktail of drugs until he passed out.


	13. Sunset

**_Sunset_**

_Clippety clop._

_Clank!_

_Clippety clop._

_Clank!_

Rodney frowned and looked down at himself. His eyebrows quickly about faced and shot up in surprise when he saw that he was sitting astride a pure black horse. Full plate metal armour covered his arms and legs and a bright silver breastplate was strapped to his chest.

He thought he should really be collapsing under the weight, but he could not feel it.

He guided his fine steed down the Lantean corridor to the infirmary.

Jennifer came through the door and smiled up at him.

Rodney extended his hand towards her and asked earnestly, "Ride with me?"

Jennifer laughed in delight as Rodney pulled her up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tightly as he nudged the horse to a trot.

The corridor faded away and they were soon cantering through a large open field.

The low quality of light was caused by the orange sky and blazing sun and told Rodney that it was dusk.

The horse either missed a step or Rodney finally discovered that he could not really ride a horse, because he suddenly tipped off sideways and landed with a loud crash. He rolled over and over and lay still on his front as he panted into the grass.

He soon felt hands on him, turning him over onto his back. He winced even though he did not seem to be in any pain.

Jennifer's face was pinched in worry as she unbuckled and removed the armour with ease.

She asked, "That was quite a tumble! Where are you hurt?"

Rodney grimaced, "Everywhere!"

Jennifer pushed up his shirt and ran and pressed her hands all over him, checking for cracked ribs and internal bleeding.

Rodney smiled mischievously and suddenly sat up with her hands still on him. He grabbed her neck and drew her into a kiss which she eagerly returned.

The sun was sinking beyond the horizon and the air was warm.

Jennifer's hands moved steadily lower down Rodney's body and then he woke up.

"No no no no no no no!" Rodney gasped into the darkness of his quarters.

His breathing was fast and ragged and the covers were twisted around his legs.

His heart gradually slowed down and he covered his face with his hands as he released a small whimpered word in a mournful sob.

"_Jennifer!"_

Doubt filled Rodney as he lay there and the dream replayed in his mind. He was so much older than her and not exactly John Sheppard when it came to being at ease around women. He also knew that he was nothing special in the looks department either and his personality… well, it needed a lot of work.

"_How could she ever love me in return?"_

But he still could not help the fact that he was only human in his need to be with her. The feelings churned away and nibbled through his defences. He closed his eyes and fell asleep again with a silent hope filling his heart that the dream would continue and then one day become reality.


	14. Life

**_Life_**

Rodney's team had left him to die alone on the forest floor where he had fallen. Only the leaves above were his company as they swayed in the breeze.

The vibrant life around him ignored the red flowing from his side as he bled and gasped. After all, trees did not bleed like people did or show and feel pain.

As he watched them, they reminded him that he was just a small part of the universe. They would carry on after he was dead and long since turned to dust without any emotion or acknowledgment that they had witnessed his passing.

He closed his eyes as the burning pain in his side from the bullet increased to an unbearable level.

Despite his brilliance and ability to comprehend mysteries far beyond most peoples' understanding, which set him apart from nearly everyone, he was still only a human being and a bullet could hurt and kill him just as it could anyone else.

His hand was doing very little to help the agony or stop the blood loss. He winced and opened his eyes again so that he could see the canopy.

He wished the trees could help him in his lonely pain and fear, but they resolutely ignored him and made him feel so hollow in his insignificance to them.

They were also alive, weren't they?

His friends and teammates had abandoned him, even Teyla who appeared to still have her mind. He wondered whether he had hallucinated Sheppard pulling the trigger in betrayal, but the physical pain was all too real for that to be possible he realised in abject misery.

Someone came over to him and grabbed hold of his hand as they laid a bandage over the wound. The leaves continued to rustle nonchalantly and the sun twinkled down on him between the gaps. They still took no heed to him even now that he had the mercy he so desperately needed.


	15. Friends

_A/N - Thank you so much for all the reviews! Sorry I could not reply to you all, I've damaged my hand. Here's one a wrote a while ago..._

**_Friends_**

"Why aren't you wearing any shoes or socks, McKay?"

"What, hmm?"

Rodney glanced down and his bare feet curled as they gripped the floor and his toes bent to hold on more firmly where he was standing in the science lab.

He looked up and John was frowning in anger. Rodney flinched and grimaced and John's expression gave way to concern as he rested a hand on Rodney's shoulder.

John said, "Several people have already asked you, but you shouted them away. Are you going to do the same to me if I push it?"

_Yes! Go away! Leave me alone._ "No."

"Good."

John gestured at the offending bare skin and said, "We don't want… _I_ don't want you cutting your feet on something, now, do I? And I'm sure you don't either."

_At least I'd feel something!_ "No."

"What, no comeback?" John was frowning again. "I thought your lab was spotless, McKay, so it probably doesn't matter anyway."

_Not at the moment, not with me here like this._ "It is."

John just stood there. He let go of Rodney's shoulder and waited.

_I want to tell you everything. The screams! Oh, the sounds and smells._ "I've got work to do, Sheppard."

"I know. Doesn't look like you're doing much now though."

_How can I work with these images in my head? We couldn't save them from the Wraith. I may be the smartest man in the galaxy, but my brain can't fight an army with thought alone. They didn't stand a chance and we just sat there in the cloaked Jumper and watched it all._

Rodney walked away and a sudden sharp spike of pain in his foot ran right up his leg had him stumbling and falling down.

_They fell… so many, so many and nothing… we could…_

Strong hands caught him and lowered him down to the floor gently, "I know. I see them too. Every one."

Rodney looked across at him and seemed utterly lost, "I said that out loud?"

John nodded solemnly and looked down at Rodney's bleeding foot. The physical wound brought the trauma into sharp focus at the forefront of Rodney's mind. Now he had something else to think about other than the panicked faces of those who were already dead.

"Let it all out. Shh, shh. Don't worry about it," John soothed and rubbed Rodney's back.

He had not even realised he had been crying. The tears were in the memory of the frustration and helplessness he had felt as he watched countless nameless people being culled and he sobbed in sorrow.

"We should've lowered the cloak," Rodney gasped nasally.

"No. We'd be dead too and then _no-one_ would remember them."

He had tried as hard as he could to bottle everything up like John did and had worked to distract himself, but he could not block out the emotions he was experiencing. He knew John was also suffering and had dealt with it differently. Rodney had seen Ronon earlier that day and his Satedan teammate had a hell of a shiner from a sparring session.

John's jaw tightened as he rested his arm across Rodney's trembling back until the tears stopped.

Rodney sniffed and wiped his face. He tried to get up and John supported him.

Rodney moved to get back to his desk and carry on working, but John held him fast and said, "No. Infirmary first."

Rodney wanted to protest, he wanted to bleed and feel the physical pain to lessen and turn his attention away from the sensation in his heart over what had happened. But John was resolute and all but dragged him to the nearest transporter and down to the infirmary.


	16. Club

**_Club_**

Rodney was not, in any shape or form, a part of the _Atlantis Fast Sprinters Club_. In fact, he could only really claim to be the founder, chairman and sole member of the _Manfully Running Away and Screaming Club_ whenever any missions went so sideways they were lying down.

So, dashing through a field in between a few scattered trees, with angry weapon wielding natives all around, had him saving his breath to increase his speed. That was, _after_ he had become really winded and the shouts had died down. Adrenaline played a big part, but he had lost John and Teyla a while ago. Only Ronon was behind him, the large man being surprisingly quiet for his size. Rodney was more concerned with speed than stepping over rustling leaves and snapping twigs so daintily, therefore he crashed and smashed through the grass and tree debris in panic.

An entirely new and painful club suddenly accepted him into its ranks as it stuck out from behind the tree he was just running past and smacked him in the shins hard enough to send him tumbling. He rolled a long way through the grass and the native then whacked his back for good measure too, enough to make him slide a short distance further and lose his precious breath for a moment.

There was a blaster shot followed by a dull thud and a moment later a rough hand grabbed the back of Rodney's tac vest and pulled him up. He winced as he tested his weight and panted, "I think he broke my back and my legs are snapped."

Ronon kept hold of him and mercilessly shoved him onwards, "Keep moving, McKay, or the next time they might _actually_ break something."

Rodney started running again. It was an ungainly limping hop and he thought miserably, "There's another one; the _Break Leg Shuffle Away from Murderous Offworlders Club_. I could wear a badge and everything…"

He knew their pursuers would probably laugh at him anyway if they saw him, but Ronon was very good as one of the few left in the rather exclusive _Pegasus Galaxy Satedan Refugees Club_ and used his hand instead of his voice to push him to keep going.

Not a moment too soon they joined up with Teyla and John waiting for them at the gate, looking infuriatingly calm and not out of breath and sweaty at all like Rodney was.

"_My_ club," Rodney thought as he got his breath back and followed his team through the wormhole. "The _Protect Civilian Scientists at All Costs Club_." He smiled, "No matter how unfit, abrasive and whiny they are…"


	17. Purple

**_Purple_**

"Leave it alone, Rodney. You'll only make it worse and that's not exactly the nicest thing to look at first thing in the morning."

Rodney was sitting opposite John in the mess hall for a very early breakfast. Not many people were around. Rodney had his shirt lifted up and was prodding a huge ugly bruise on his belly.

He grimaced as he continued to test and study it and ignored Sheppard's plea. He lifted his hand away so that John could get a good look and said in panic, "I swear it's getting bigger! I think I'm still bleeding internally!"

John shook his head, "It's fine. It looks the same as before when you so kindly shared it with me."

Rodney sighed and slowly lowered the material down so that he was covered. John smiled in relief, "That's better."

Rodney left his hand over the injury as he reached forward and grabbed his cup of coffee. He winced as the movement pulled the bruise. John frowned in concern, "Maybe you _should_ go down to the infirmary and they can prod it for you?"

Rodney narrowed his eyes and retorted indignantly, "Last time I went, they made it worse! They jabbed it just about as hard as I remember the hit…" He suddenly stopped talking and his eyes went wide. John looked at him in shock. Rodney covered his mouth with the hand that had been resting on his middle and lowered the coffee down. He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes in misery.

John looked at him in compassion and said slowly, "Come on, Rodney. You need to tell me what happened."

Rodney lowered his hand and his lips quivered before he said, "You've read the report?"

John nodded.

The barriers went up, "Then what's to tell?"

"I want to hear it from _you_, Rodney. If it's going to be a problem as your team leader…" Rodney gave him a sour look, "…_and_ your friend, I need to know."

Rodney was looking angry now and snapped, "Alright! I got hit and it hurt. Still does. Happy now?"

John shook his head, "That's not all though is it?"

Rodney bared his teeth and protectively placed his hand over the hidden bruising once again. John raised his eyebrows and leant back in the chair. He put his hands behind his head as he lolled and without looking at Rodney he said, "I'm not going anywhere."

John knew that eventually Rodney would have to deal with the memory of the trauma of how he received it. John had not really wanted to have this conversation over breakfast, but now was as good a time as any so he pushed Rodney to do it sooner rather than later.

Rodney unclenched his teeth and sighed heavily. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand and leant forwards. John also came closer and clasped his hands on the table as he gazed at Rodney and waited patiently for him to speak.

Rodney spoke almost so quietly that he could not be heard. But John picked up every word he uttered and remembered. "I tried to stop him. I went down to science lab three a couple of days ago when they didn't answer my radio call. I found Major Montague pointing a gun at Dr Stebbins who he had backed into a corner."

Rodney furrowed his brow and flinched as he tried to get more comfortable. His voice was strained and a little louder as he continued, "I don't know what came over me, his back was to the door, so I ran over and grabbed his wrist. In the struggle, he gave me this," Rodney patted his midsection lightly, "But I managed to get the gun out of his hand."

John nodded, "You were lucky he was hopped up on that spore the biology department just found."

Rodney grimaced, "Huh, nice vote of confidence in my disarming technique there. Well despite what you may think, it worked just fine."

"Sure," John smirked. "I also like how the power of your mind willed him to collapse right at the end of the struggle too."

"Well, thanks for the little chat, Sheppard. It's been lovely."

John waved him off, "Good thing the spore causes muscle weakness or he may have shot you."

Rodney's eyes darted around in panic and his breathing sped up. John reached across and put his hand on Rodney's shoulder and squeezed gently. He said, "I'm very glad he didn't."

Rodney closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down under John's reassuring touch.

John let go and stood up, "Just remember to use your radio next time, _before_ you try anything heroic."


	18. Rain

**_Rain_**

The sun was yet to be seen through the dark clouds looming overhead. It had been veiled ever since Rodney had emerged from the gate with his team and come to this dreary world.

"Oh, great. As if this trip couldn't get any worse!" Rodney muttered as a huge blob of water leaked from the clouds above him, landed on his forehead and rolled down his face.

The drops were slow at first, but the frequency of the watery missiles attacking McKay rapidly increased until they could only be described as an all-encompassing waterfall from the sky.

Water ran in rivulets down Rodney's face and his hair and clothes were soon saturated. He shivered as he remembered the last time he had been this completely wet through. It had been that day out on the grounding station with Elizabeth and Kolya.

But that had been unavoidable and now… "I'm soaked and I really can't see the point of this. We should've waited for a sunny day!"

Sheppard smirked, "And miss all the fun? Come on, McKay, think of it as a water park."

"I hated those," he grumbled. "And as for fun? I can already feel the water in my lungs! It's the first stage of pneumonia! Not to mention my feet..." He stopped and lifted one up and a trickle of water came from the bottom of his trouser leg and ran over and off his shoe in a cascade to the ground. "Ugh, trench foot. I'll never walk again."

He plopped his foot down again with an audible squish and trod heavily as he wetly squelched his way along in the mud with the rest of his team.

Teyla was also soaked, but ignored the rain, even as the water plastered her hair to her forehead. She spoke loudly to be heard above the heavy patter of water crashing down from the open clouds onto leaves and the ground. "This is Cipta. It rains every day here."

Rodney continued to grumble inaudibly as the splatter of his feet in the soggy earth was too noisy for his voice to be heard.

Teyla continued, louder than before to rise above his mutterings, "That is how this is one of very few places in the Pegasus Galaxy where the locals are able to grow red rice."

Rodney frowned and his eyes filled with water as it dripped from his lowered eyebrows more easily. He rubbed his hands over his face to clear his vision and then through his hair which made it stick up for a moment.

He glanced around at the rest of his team and saw that Ronon's dreadlocks were weighed down where they rested on his shoulders. John was flat haired and his usual mop was completely lifeless and limp. Rodney resisted the urge to laugh at the sight and rainwater ran into his open mouth and made him splutter and blow it away.

Rodney huffed and ground out, "I can't wait to get out of here! Are we close to the village? Teyla, you're good at negotiation; you can have it all concluded in double quick time, right?"

Teyla smiled knowingly and said, "Rodney, the people here worship the rain and believe that it is bad luck to stay indoors when it is raining."

"What!?"

She continued in an infuriatingly calm voice, "They say that they will anger the sky god if they do not praise him for all that he brings. It is a great insult to them to be under shelter during rainfall."

Rodney gritted his teeth and then said angrily, "We should've brought a Jumper and parked it out of sight. Then I could've sat in there, safe and snug and dry, while you all got drenched to your hearts' content."

Ronon said, "Suck it up, McKay. It's only water."

Rodney sighed, "The moment we get back to Atlantis, I'm going to take off these clothes, wrap myself up in nice, _dry_ towels and find somewhere warm to curl up and sleep."

Teyla's mouth quirked into a smile, John raised an eyebrow and Ronon looked up at the sky and did not blink as water washed over his face. Rodney's head was down to shield his face, so he did not see his teammates' reactions to his comment.


	19. Passing

_**Passing**_

Jennifer walked past Rodney in the corridor. She gave him a tight nod, which he returned. In her wake, his nose picked up the smell of flowers and something far more alluring hiding underneath the perfume she was wearing.

She had only been on Atlantis for a couple of months, but there was definitely something in the feminine scent and the expression he had just seen which caught his attention. Or maybe it had just been the way her eyes sparkled and made his heart flutter uncontrollably?

He felt a blush creeping across his face, which made him stop and frown.

How could he possibly feel like that when he was still in a quiet, but reasonably steady relationship with Katie Brown?

He let his guard down and all his barriers and defences fell away around Katie. But Jennifer was out of reach, just as Sam always had been and always would. Which was why when he felt these sensations stirring inside him for unobtainable women, they hurt him so deeply and the pain would not go away. Dr Keller was so young and beautiful and he was already entangled in another relationship.

All his life he had hidden himself away from the opposite sex, not by choice, but by the reactions he inspired in women by his very nature. But now his heart leapt like that for two at once? It was impossible. Sure, he felt an attraction to women who looked nice and were not completely on the offensive around him all the time. And, of course, he could appreciate women. But the lolloping sensation deep within his chest was sadly rare and did not happen every time he saw one.

He quickly quashed and buried the emotion he had just felt towards the pretty young new head of the medical section of Atlantis. He shook his head to clear it and continued on his way along the corridor with his eyes cast down to the floor.


	20. Broken, Part I

_A/N – this is like where I work…_

**_Broken (Part I)_**

John walked into the main science lab and found exactly who he had been looking for. Rodney was perched on the edge of his chair as he sat hunched over a laptop. He was sipping coffee and empty cups and power bar wrappers were littered around the desk. His eyes were wide as they darted across the screen in front of him. His face was sweaty and his eye sockets were darkly red and swollen. He looked like an absolute wreck; even more so than usual. He did not notice Sheppard until he spoke.

John said, "Hey."

Rodney blinked, rubbed his face and shuddered as he glanced up at John tiredly. There was a slight glaze over his eyes and he replied, "Hey."

"Have you done that thing yet?"

"Hmm?"

John felt disappointed that Rodney did not even seem to remember what he had asked for. He said, "That's a no then?"

Rodney furrowed his brow and the corners of his sore looking eyes tightened. He nodded and grimaced.

John said loudly, "But I asked you over a day ago, McKay. Come on, chop chop!"

Rodney flinched under Sheppard's harsh, accusing tone and the intercom suddenly activated, _"Dr McKay, please report to Lab Six. Dr McKay to Lab Six."_

He glanced at his computer again and looked lost for a moment. He muttered crankily, "I'm checking on this experiment for Dr Ryan. He's skiving off with the flu and leaving everything to me as usual!"

Rodney jumped and tapped his headset. He snapped, "What?! Yes, yes! I did it ten minutes ago. You've got more? Can't you do it yourself?"

He folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes with his brow furrowed as he listened to something John could not hear. He tilted his head to the side and said, "Oh, so now you _admit_ that you need me to cast my eye over it or you'll blow up the city, Kavanagh. I'll add it to the extremely long list of things I need to do."

He clicked his radio off and sighed. He turned to John, "Oh, what did you want again?"

"The new gym, remember?"

"I've got lots of other very important things to do, Sheppard, and everyone wants them done yesterday! Even the things only given to me today."

Rodney winced and hit his radio again, "Radek…? Lab Three's on fire? How did that happen? I've only been gone for half an hour and…"

The intercom interrupted him, _"McKay to Lab Six! McKay, report to Lab Six immediately!"_

Rodney frowned and grimaced. His face was getting redder every second and his hands started to shake. He shut his eyes tightly and continued to Zelenka, "I'll be there in a minute. I, ah, have something, uh, else I need to… do…"

His laptop started chirping at him and he clicked on the incoming email, "Kavanagh…" he muttered as he glanced over it. "Anyone would think I'm the only one capable of doing any work around here!"

Dr Weir chose that moment to enter the room. She nodded at Sheppard, "Colonel." And went straight past him to McKay, "Rodney, I wanted to know where your last mission report was. It was due this morning."

Rodney put a hand on his forehead and rubbed it tiredly. He said, "No problem, I'll have it to you in the next hour."

Sheppard glared at him, "You'd better. We've got a mission briefing in an hour and then we're due offworld half an hour after that."

_"McKay to Lab Six!"_

"Oh, come on!" Rodney said as he stood up unsteadily.

John eyed him and said, "So, when can I expect my new training room to be online? You know, that room with the Ancient treadmills and bikes? All the marines are getting restless."

Rodney's radio activated again. He replied, "Zelenka. I know Lab Three's still on fire. I'm coming!"

He had barely moved one pace forward when he tapped it again, "Kavanagh. Yes, I got it. I'll do it later."

He took one more step and moved his hand away where he was scrubbing his face and pressed the palm on his chest directly over his heart.

"Within the hour?" Weir asked dangerously.

"I, uh, yes." Rodney clawed his hand against himself and gritted his teeth.

John frowned in concern as Rodney bent slightly at the waist and started breathing heavily through his mouth. He asked, "What's wrong?"

Rodney glanced up at him with bloodshot eyes and mumbled, "Indigestion. It's nothing." He smiled bravely, "Too many power bars." But his face soon fell.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and asked, "How long have you had it?"

"A couple of days, on and off."

"What?!" John shouted. "Infirmary. Now."

"No no no. Too much work to do. Kavanagh needs my mission report. Zelenka's in Lab Six. Something's on fire. You need… you need…" He waved his free hand in John's direction and angled his head down to the ground with his eyes closed, "You need…" his head snapped up and his eyes widened in horror, "I don't know! I can't remember. Oh!"

He bunched the hand he had against his chest into a fist in the material of his shirt and placed his other hand over it and whimpered. He screwed his face up and mumbled, "Ow. That's not so good."

He shakily moved back over to his chair and sat down with a jarring thump. Before John could reach him, he slumped over the desk and fell sideways and spilled onto the floor. Sheppard rushed over to Rodney before he hit the ground and grabbed him. He carefully lowered Rodney down and onto his side.

John hit his radio, "Medical emergency in the main science lab!" Elizabeth hovered nearby while John located a weak and irregular pulse on Rodney's neck.

Carson's voice came back over his radio, _"What's happened?"_

"Rodney just collapsed. He was complaining of chest pains."

Carson's voice became more serious, _"Make him comfortable. We'll be there in a few moments."_


	21. Heart, Part II

**_Heart (Part II)_**

Rodney lay on a bed in the infirmary. Heart monitor leads went under the white scrubs he was wearing and attached to his chest. There was a steady beeping next to him and he frowned sadly down at the IV line needle jabbed into and taped to the back of his hand. His face was pale, but the dark circles around his eyes were gradually fading.

Carson and John stood next to him with angry expressions which was why he could not meet their gaze. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back onto the pillows propping him up.

Carson said, "Not so fast, laddie."

John folded his arms over his chest and said sternly, "I know you'd probably do anything for a day off, but that was a bit extreme, McKay."

Rodney cracked his eyes open and pulled the sheet up to his chest. He furrowed his brow and looked at them miserably.

Carson's expression softened and he said, "Your blood pressure was off the chart, Rodney, and there was so much caffeine in you, your heart just couldn't take it any more."

Rodney remained silent and placed his hands over his chest protectively. Carson asked, "When was the last time you ate before you collapsed?"

Rodney opened his mouth and stuttered, "I, uh, don't remember."

"Have you had any sleep in the last few days?"

"Not really."

Carson shook his head in exasperation, "Honestly, Rodney, you should take better care of yourself or you'll have a _fatal_ heart attack next time."

Rodney replied indignantly, "But then who'd take care of Atlantis? I can't just abandon my duties when I feel tired or get a little bit peckish."

John narrowed his eyes and asked, "And who will take care of Atlantis _after_ you've worked yourself to death?"

John sighed and shook his head. He unfolded his arms so that he could gesture at Rodney. "Dr Zelenka told me he's found you asleep at your desk in the science labs at 7am every day this week. Do you ever even go to your quarters to sleep?"

"You asked Radek about this?"

"No. I didn't. But he has expressed a concern and volunteered the information after what just happened."

Rodney hummed and fiddled with the sheet covering him nervously. His eyelids started to droop and he muttered, "Have you finished? I'm just going to pass out now."

Carson patted his hand and John smiled, "Yes, we have. Just concentrate on getting better."

"Good. Good." Rodney mumbled and his face slackened as he fell asleep.

John turned to Carson as they continued to stand next to Rodney. He asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

"Aye. He should be after a few days of rest and a complete caffeine purge. A proper hot meal, not eaten on the run, won't go amiss either. Not to mention no radio or laptop and the infirmary's now off limits for discussing work. I already had to request Kavanagh's forcible removal a few times as he snuck in and started hounding Rodney."

"I'll post a guard to scare him away," John reassured him.

Carson furrowed his brow at Rodney's still form and then turned to John. "He nearly died. If help hadn't been so close, he wouldn't have made it. The crazy man worked himself to the point of exhaustion and then kept going. He damn near killed himself."

John glanced down at Rodney and said, "I'm just off to have a word with Elizabeth about that in a minute. Things will start getting better for him from now on. We owe it to him after everything he's done for us. Heaping all this pressure and stress on him was a poor way to repay him and I'm going to see to it that it doesn't happen again."

Carson nodded, "Aye, see that you do."

John took hold of Rodney's hand where it was resting over his heart and gave it a gentle squeeze. He placed the limp hand back down carefully and then left the infirmary.


	22. Work, Part III

_**Work (Part III)**_

John sat opposite Elizabeth in her office. They had not said anything to each other yet and she had her hands clasped on her desk as she regarded him.

John said flatly, "Rodney McKay."

"Rodney McKay," Elizabeth echoed and pressed her lips in a thin line as worry and compassion in equal measure flitted across her face.

She leant forwards and sighed. "It was just too much for him. He has more duties than anyone else on Atlantis. I sometimes think he had even more than me," she admitted.

John said, "Something needs to be done."

Elizabeth nodded. "We've neglected him and he would never tell us that he needs a day off. After what just happened, I had a look over his personnel file. Did you know that he hasn't had a single day off since we arrived two years ago, except when he's been injured in the infirmary?"

John shook his head and remained silent as she continued.

Elizabeth looked at her computer with her eyebrows raised, "No weekends, no holiday…" her gaze returned to John. "And no end to the unrelenting amount of work he has to do. In fact, I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier. Recently he's been distracted and more irritable than usual. We should've seen the signs. It was quite clear that he hadn't slept for days before he collapsed."

John frowned and grimaced, "As his friend, I should definitely have seen it. He's not only the head of the science department and has to keep a team comprising of the most intelligent and bigheaded people from earth in line, but he's also part of my offworld team."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and continued for him, "He then has his own work to do and is constantly called upon to save everyone in the city doing things he has never done before.

"Of course, he does all those things to the best of his exceptional ability, but I think sometimes he loses sight of the fact that he's only human. He can't keep pushing himself to breaking point or he's heading for an early death very soon.

"I think everyone on the base also views him as some kind of supernatural entity that no amount of work can overcome or be too much to give him."

John winced and looked back at her knowingly, "Then there's his infamous arrogance and ego, that will never allow him to say out loud when he's suffering under his workload. So, naturally, he works himself to the point of exhaustion and collapse. Because admitting that he can't cope is like saying that he's not really a genius, because genius' don't fail and they don't ever admit their weaknesses when it comes to their limitations."

Elizabeth smiled, "Yes, he's quite a puzzle isn't he?"

John grinned back at her, "The Rodney McKay enigma. Few understand him. Fewer bother to try."

Elizabeth's face fell. "He can't say no to anything or he'll feel that he's let us all down. So we're going to have to do this secretly."

John narrowed his eyes conspiratorially. "Yes, we don't want any bruised egos around here. What did you have in mind?"

"Just a little shake up of the referral points in the science department. No more running straight to Dr McKay every time something goes wrong or a calculation needs checking over."

"Zelenka?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes. I'm going to ask him to act as a buffer. He has his own duties, but not nearly as many as Rodney."

John smiled, "Sounds like a plan."

Elizabeth pursed her lips, "We must make sure Rodney doesn't know about this."

John stood up and placed a finger over his mouth, "My lips are sealed…"

Elizabeth nodded and started typing on her computer the moment he left to have everything already in place by the time Rodney was well enough to leave the infirmary.

* * *

_(End of Three parter)_


	23. She

**_She_**

Rodney leant over a computer where he was standing in the control room and desperately tried to lower the malfunctioning gate shield. He swiftly clicked the keys and then dashed over to another laptop. He bent forwards again and clicked away with his eyes unblinking in concentration.

Mr Woolsey hovered nearby and asked, "Have you got it yet, Dr McKay?"

"Standby," he replied with irritation clear in his voice at the interruption.

There was a team stranded out there and they had been chased all the way back to the gate by the natives. They only had a few seconds before the locals caught up with them and turned them into kebabs with their long spears.

Rodney sighed heavily as he continued to work. He had located a line of faulty code in the shield programme. He had no idea how it had got there, but it had to either be overwritten or bypassed or the shield was not going to come down.

He leant forwards even more until his back twinged a little at the strain.

Suddenly a savage bruising pain flared in his rump and caused him to shriek in alarm as the shock drove him forwards and he banged his pelvis against the console.

He placed one hand on the console to steady himself and straightened up. He breathed, "Ow," and rubbed his rear with his other hand indignantly as he turned to see what had attacked him.

There were a few women behind him, working at their consoles. Their faces were impassive and none of them looked up to meet his glare.

Rodney sighed and turned back to the computer. He swiftly bypassed the duff code and the shield lowered. The team made it back without casualties and Rodney spun around and folded his arms over his chest at the women behind him.

"Alright, the game's over. Which one of you did it?"

Sheppard grinned at him and said, "Really, McKay, I'd say it was more of a show. You should be more careful, even _I_ was tempted for a moment there."

Rodney gathered his lips together in thin line of fury and stared at Sheppard who had appeared from nowhere while he had been busily working on the shield. Rodney whined, "I should have the lot of you detained and interrogated! You're lucky I'm so fast at working or you could've compromised the safety of the off-world team even more!"

John's face fell and he addressed the women. They looked up when he spoke, "As much as I hate to admit it, ladies, but I'm with McKay on this one. In your own time is fine, but not when lives are at stake."

Rodney turned to Sheppard and said hotly, "In their own time?! Where the hell did that come from? I don't want it at _any_ time. It hurt."

John grinned back at him like a moron and patted him on the back, "Maybe you should get Keller to check it for you? I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Rodney's mouth twitched at the edges as he tried and failed to control his mixed emotions. He pulled himself away, snapped his laptop closed and tucked it under his arm. He scowled and as he walked away he had an exaggerated limp. He muttered, "No. It's fine. I'll just have to work standing up for a few days."

John smiled at his retreating back and then winked at the women nearby. They all looked relieved and some of them giggled.


	24. Fall

_A/N - Rodney's perspective in my 'Tales From the Pegasus Galaxy' chapter, 'To Fall From Thee.' Don't worry – it's not necessary to have read the other story._

**_Fall_**

The air was thick with dust and blotted out Rodney's sight on the rocky planet they were exploring with the Daedalus' help.

One minute he had been walking and talking with John, the next moment, he had stepped forward and tilted his weight to land on his foot. Only it did not hit anything. There was nothing but air. In a cloud of tiny rocks and dust, Rodney had gone past the point of no return and he tipped over and fell where the ground had vanished under him.

He hoped John would not follow him and topple over the edge behind.

The dust obscuring his vision choked him as he inhaled a lungful in fright. He could not even cry out in terror as the horrid sensation of falling engulfed him and his stomach rose unpleasantly. The rushing wind roaring past his ears was deafening. The particles against his bare face and hands soon turned sharp and became painful as they obstructed his body's downward passage through the air.

He had no idea of how far it was to the bottom and he knew that he was definitely going to die when he reached it. He prayed that the universe or fate (if it even existed) would at least have mercy on him and kill him instantly, but he did not hold much hope for that. He knew that his bones would shatter and his insides would be pulped when he hit the rock at his current terrifying high speed and the injuries would be catastrophic and mortal. He would probably end up battered, bleeding, broken and flailing for several minutes when his fragile body struck the ground at the base of the invisible cliff he had missed.

He thought of the stupidity of the way he was about to die. He was supposed to be a genius! Unstoppable in the face of adversity, able to outsmart and out-tech any foe or challenge put at his feet to trip him! Now a cliff, of all things, was going to end him, because he had had his eyes on the scanner instead of looking where he was going. He would have cried at the unfairness of it all if he were not so afraid of what was to come.

He pictured his epitaph in his mind's eye:-

_Here lies Dr Rodney McKay, scourge of Wraith, saviour of Atlantis. The most intelligent man in two galaxies. He missed his footing and fell off a ten thousand foot cliff._

He could imagine the laughter at his funeral… that was if anyone bothered to turn up. All his work would be discredited by the pointless way he died. For a self proclaimed genius to have such a demise, he could almost hear them talking about him; _"Yes, some genius, huh? He didn't see the rather obvious danger and got himself smashed at the bottom of some nameless alien cliff while on a pointless rock collecting mission. No, I didn't care much for him, too arrogant. Between you and me, I'm really just here for the food..."_

Sadness and fear encircled him. He turned over as he tumbled to lessen the scratching against his face and closed his eyes tightly. He crossed his arms over his chest in a futile effort to protect his vital organs from the brunt of the impact when he was inevitably dashed against the ground. He mentally braced himself for certain pain and death soon to follow.

Suddenly, when he had lost all hope for survival, he saw white stars through his eyelids as the Daedalus caught him in his fall and beamed him up.


	25. Water

_**Water**_

Rodney stood in the shower adjacent to his quarters on Atlantis, with his hands pressed against the wall to keep himself steady. He let the cold water land on his bare back and he did not hiss or flinch, even as it washed the blood away from all his cuts and scrapes and stung like nothing else.

He winced and twitched slightly and quickly stilled the tremble trying to work its way through to his exterior. He wanted to whimper and cry out, but he held his tongue in silence. The only noise was the water pounding onto his skin and the sound of the cascade rolling off his battered and torn body and flowing away.

He stood completely still, with his head down and teeth gritted, as he watched the water turn rusty and then run clear in the tray.

The temperature of the water was always perfect. His ATA gene interacted with the system and today it sensed he wanted it to by icy to numb the pain from the bruises and cuts.

It could only distract him from the memories for so long though. He stood there until he could no longer feel the wounds and all sensation in his upper back had been lost to the freezing liquid.

Sheppard had been the one who had pushed him into the ditch to hide back on the hellish planet. The ditch that had been full of the longest and sharpest thorns Rodney had ever seen. They had shredded his skin mercilessly as he fell.

The murderous natives had run past their hiding place. But it had been so close. In the end, Ronon had had to place his hand over Rodney's mouth to silence the pained cries and stop him making too much noise through struggling to get free from the bushes. He could almost still taste the mud and smell the grimy, sweaty filth on his team mate's hand clamped over his face as he whimpered against it and his voice was muffled.

Now, Rodney was silent and still as he remembered and the freezing water soothed his injuries.

When he started shivering uncontrollably, the shower turned itself off. He watched the last of the water drain away and his teeth chattered together and goosebumps rose all over his skin.

He stiffly pushed himself away from the wall and stepped out of the cubicle. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself. He did not even bother to dry off as he stumbled back into his quarters and collapsed onto the bed. His damp hair quickly soaked the pillow and he closed his eyes. Diluted blood spotted through the towel and he pulled it more tightly around himself to try and staunch the watery flow.

Sheppard came by a while later and let himself in. He forced Rodney up and waited for him to dress.

John allowed Rodney to lean against him so that he did not fall and said, "I know you're in pain, McKay. You can make all the noise you want about it now."

John waited until Rodney could no longer keep stoic like the military types who surrounded him in his offworld team. He was a man who needed to speak so that they knew exactly how much he was suffering. Rodney grimaced at John and did just that.

"It really _hurts_!"

John waved him off and said, "I know. I know. And I want you to tell me all about it…" Rodney looked up at him in hope. "On the way to the infirmary."

Rodney's face fell and he sighed.

John then dragged Rodney down to the infirmary to be properly bandaged and where they could administer a more appropriate and stronger analgesia that would be better than getting hypothermia in an attempt to freeze the pain away.

* * *

_A/N - Wow! A quarter of the way there now... only 75 more chapter to go. w00t!_


	26. Ashes

_A/N – Writer's Choice_

**_Ashes_**

Rodney was tense, where he stood in the centre of a large shell of a building. Sweeping gothic pillars and light brown stonework surrounded him and most of the roof had been torn away by years of relentless gales and pounding rain.

The wind sweeping through the remaining rafters sounded like a thousand ghosts howling at him in eternal torment. He grimaced as his heart pounded in fright and glanced around at the rest of his team. They appeared to be as unsettled as he was and that made him even more fearful.

He hesitantly walked further into what had probably once been the most magnificent building in the Pegasus Galaxy. It was the only structure still standing in the town they had found.

The whole world was dead with nothing but the wind carrying the haunted cries and ashes of the long gone inhabitants through the air.

The very earth itself spoke of death and hid silent memories of untold love and joy, overcome too soon by misery and horror.

Ronon kicked a small stone and the sound of it clanking against the cold dusty floor pulled at Rodney's heart almost painfully as it echoed. He could imagine the human screams of those who had once resided on the planet. But they had now perished, with only this ruin to mark their transient existence and passing.

"We are too late," Teyla said.

"Whatever happened was over centuries ago," John added with a disappointed look at a nearby block of smooth, weatherworn stone.

Rodney knew that it would only take a few more hundred years before even the mighty ruin wherein they stood would be reduced back to dust from whence it came. Then the blusterous wind would scatter the particles both near and far to mingle with the ashes and remnants of its creators.

Ronon grumbled, "There's nothing here."

Rodney had to agree. The rest of his team turned around to head back to the gaping entrance they had come in. The door had long since been torn away and destroyed like everything else.

It was unclear whether it had been the Wraith who had killed everyone as there was no evidence. But it was hard to imagine anything else destroying a whole settlement so thoroughly.

Rodney stood still for a moment as another strong gust blew through the top of the walls around him and crows flew across the white sky visible above. They were jet black against the clouds and cried in discomfort at the gale as they glided along uncontrollably in the air currents.

Rodney drew in a deep breath and furrowed his brow as he looked upwards. He felt a crushing grief and sadness settle over his heart. What had the people been like? What had happened to them? There was no one left to tell the tale. There were no writings, only voiceless slabs within a solitary crumbling ruin.

He lowered his head and saw that his team were waiting for him. Sheppard was frowning curiously back at him and Ronon appeared to be impassive at first, but his face was stony where he resolutely buried all of his emotions. When Rodney met Teyla's eyes, he saw understanding in them and something akin to the grief that was tearing him apart inside his own chest.

He sighed and nodded, "I just needed a minute. I'm coming."

Teyla drew alongside him in silent support as they trekked back to the gate and went home.


	27. Spring

**_Spring_**

The smell of sulphur and rotten eggs permeated the air near the pools of geothermically heated water. Rodney wrinkled his nose and breathed through his mouth noisily.

The stench still reached his sense of smell and made him grimace in disgust as he worked at a rusty metal contraption in a nearby rock face.

John, Teyla and Ronon stood around him, looking outward for any sign of danger.

Rodney fiddled some more with the device and muttered, "Does anyone have a face mask? I think I'm going to pass out soon. It stinks."

Ronon replied, "Should've had a shower this morning."

Rodney looked away from the device he was working on and fixed Ronon with his best withering glare. Usually, the sturdiest trees and toughest flowers fell in the path of the look he gave his team mate, but Ronon stared right back with an amused smirk.

While Rodney was distracted, his fingers absently depressed a small groove in the metal where they had been gliding over the surface searching for an access port or some sort of clue as to what the device was.

The metal suddenly sprang from the wall as the device finally responded to his highly educated and intelligent prodding and poking. It whacked Rodney's hand first and his shocked cry was abruptly cut off when all the air left his lungs as it hit him in the chest. It struck him with such speed that no-one reached him in time as he fell over backwards and landed on the rocks with a dull thud.

He immediately rolled onto his side and curled around his mangled hand and the damaged coil of bones forming a protective wall around the most vital organs inside his chest.

John crouched down next to him and grabbed his shoulder, "Rodney?"

He whimpered and trembled in pain.

Ronon had become instantly serious after his misplaced teasing and said, "The gate's not far. I'll get help."

"Yes, go."

Ronon nodded once and then ran at a sprint away from them.

Teyla knelt down and carefully grasped Rodney's forearm. He winced and ground out, "Oh! Ow! I don't think I'll ever be able to use that again."

Teyla examined his hand and furrowed her brow at the clear displacement of some of his fingers and the small delicate bones in the main part of his hand.

John rolled up his jacket and put it behind Rodney to cushion him as they rolled him over onto his back.

"That hurts even more. I think it broke some ribs." His watering eyes were closed and his face twitched whenever his breath hitched in pain. Teyla kept hold of his arm to stop him moving or brushing his hand against anything.

John undid Rodney's tac vest and said, "I'm just going to check your ribs. Don't move."

"As if I'd want to…"

John gently pushed up Rodney's shirt and baulked at the sight. "Your chest is really bruised."

"Well, duh!" Rodney said, but there was no conviction behind his weak voice.

"Hold still." John palpated Rodney's ribcage and Rodney hissed when he found an unnatural movement of the bones.

"At least one break. We'd best not move you without assistance."

"I could've told you that!" Rodney snapped and shuddered.

John covered the ugly bruising as he tugged the shirt back down and took hold of Rodney's uninjured hand. "Not much longer now. Hang in there."

"Where did you think I was going?! With my…" he winced, "…flail chest and hand that'll need to be cut off?"

"You will be fine," Teyla soothed.

They did not have to wait long for the medical team, who had come through the gate on foot with a squad of marines led by Ronon. They quickly worked on Rodney to ease his pain, strapped him down securely on a stretcher and then Ronon and John carried him home.


	28. Dark

**_Dark (AKA The Night Hunter)_**

"It's getting closer!" Rodney whispered loudly as he waved the life signs detector at the rest of his team.

"Quiet!" John hissed.

"We're so dead." Rodney's eyes were wide and shone dimly in the night of the world they were trying to escape.

A deafening roar came from just beyond their hiding place behind some thick bushes and trees. Rodney squeaked in fright and covered his head. The others moved to encircle and protect him from the approaching creature.

Rodney glanced at the scanner again and Ronon grunted, "Hide the light!"

McKay frowned and squinted at the screen and his body trembled in time with his wavering voice, "It's here!"

They waited.

And then waited some more in the dark. The tension was palpable and Rodney gripped his sidearm with white knuckles in the oppressive darkness pressing in on his eyes.

After a few minutes Teyla asked, "Where is it?"

"Right here!" Rodney said incredulously.

Ronon grumbled, "I don't see anything."

Rodney rolled his eyes, but no-one else saw his expression, "That's because it's night and it's pitch black." He continued in a high-pitched whine, "Why can't we click on our torches, just for a second?"

There was a soft sniffling sound and Rodney felt something damp brush his hand. He yelped in fright and said, "Right. That's it." He turned on his flashlight and shone it at the offender.

Large, black eyes gazed up at him from the ground where there was an animal which looked like a small, black badger sitting at his feet. Its stunned expression matched Rodney's own saucer wide eyes. It licked his hand in an apologetic gesture and Rodney pulled it away and grimaced in disgust, before he wiped it on his trousers in a feverish manner.

The animal bared its teeth and roared loudly. Rodney jumped out of his skin and fell over backwards.

John caught him and laughed, "Is that what you detected?"

The badger was hoofing on Rodney's feet and gave an experimental tug at his trouser leg with its teeth.

"No!" He said quickly, shaking the creature away and aiming a kick. The animal looked hurt and hung its head down sadly.

He complained, "It was bigger than that!"

Ronon chuckled as he patted the badger's head and it focused its attention away from the scientist. "What happened to 'it's going to kill us all?'"

"Oh, funny."

John waited for a moment and said, "Well, as we're all still alive and haven't been eaten by 'a giant creature of the night out for blood,' I'd say we head back."

Rodney grumbled vehemently under his breath and Ronon laughed again as Teyla looked bemused. Rodney said angrily, "Laugh it up! It could've been dangerous."

Ronon grinned back at him and shook his head in relief.


	29. What?

_**What?**_

John found Rodney in the main science lab. He had spent the best part of the last few minutes trying to raise the wayward scientist on the radio.

"You missed lunch, McKay."

Rodney glanced up and then went back to staring at the computer. "I wasn't aware that we were dating."

Rodney stood up and walked stiffly over to a cabinet. He hunched slightly as he rummaged around inside and then limped back to the computer.

John narrowed his eyes, "Hey, are you alright?"

"Of course I am!" Rodney snapped and then sighed heavily before he continued clacking on his computer.

John was still not satisfied though and moved a little closer. Rodney was grimacing with his mouth slightly open, but his eyes were glaring intensely at the screen as he concentrated on his work.

John edged nearer and saw that Rodney's hands were shaking as he typed. McKay stood up again and said angrily, "If I wanted someone peering over my shoulder looking at everything I was doing, I'd go and live in a zoo!"

He frowned in fury at John and then stalked out of the lab before John could stop him.

Sheppard suddenly saw something dark shining on the computer keyboard which made his eyes widen. He glanced over at the cabinet and saw the same liquid smeared in a gory handprint on the cabinet door. He shouted, "McKay! Come back!"

But Rodney had already gone.

John ran after him and was able to follow him fairly easily where the trail led along the walls and on the floor. He saw Rodney hitting the transporter screen and the moment the door swished open again, he went inside and hit the same destination, which was clearly marked with a red fingerprint.

John found Rodney standing in the corridor with his back to the transporter. He had his hand against his thigh and limped away the moment John stepped out. "Rodney! What did you do to hurt yourself?"

Rodney walked into a lab branching off the corridor and John rapidly gained the distance. He looked around the room and saw that there was a small console at the edge and a large clawed device hanging down from the ceiling. One of the claws had a darkened end and Rodney was still clutching his leg as he stared at the device.

He shook his head, went over to the console and started tapping away at the controls.

"McKay, stop," John said firmly.

Rodney grimaced and kept going, but his hands were shaking too badly for him to do any good. He frowned and closed his eyes in frustration and then they flew open and he hammered more vigorously. He was spreading blood all over the display from his hands.

"Rodney?" John walked over to him and grabbed his wrist to stop him from typing. John did not pull very hard, but Rodney's arm was easy to move. He turned it over so that he could look at the palm of Rodney's hand and furrowed his brow at how red it was.

"What happened?"

Rodney shook his head again and he looked at the console sadly. He spoke quietly in an apologetic mumble, "I didn't want anyone to find out. I made a mistake and it stabbed me, okay? But I can fix this, I know I can! So leave me alone."

"Rodney, you shouldn't worry about us thinking any less of you, and especially not when you get hurt."

"But I'm supposed to be the genius able to comprehend all mysteries!"

"I know. But you're still a human being and no-one expects perfection. Even after this. Whatever you did wrong, it doesn't matter. You shouldn't have hidden your injury or think that you don't deserve any treatment because you couldn't solve it."

Rodney looked down at his bleeding leg like he was seeing it for the first time and whispered, "Oh."

John took hold of Rodney's shoulder and tapped his radio, "I need a medical team to my current location."

He helped Rodney over to a wall and propped him against it. Rodney sagged and slid down and John made sure he did not land too heavily.

John sat down next to him and wrapped a bandage from his pocket around Rodney's upper leg where it was still bleeding. McKay hissed and screwed up his face, but kept still.

John waved at the device and asked, "So, did you figure out what it does before it got you."

Rodney closed his eyes and tilted his head back, "No. I just activated it because I didn't know what it was. I ran the safety checks first. Well I thought I had." He gritted his teeth and looked more miserable than Sheppard had ever seen him.

John patted Rodney's shoulder and said kindly, "Accidents happen. And we'll always find things the Ancients left behind which we can't figure out."

Rodney sighed again and said, "_I _should be able to."

John shook his head, "Not everything has a purpose."

"You think they're messing with us?"

John shrugged and smiled, "Sure. You only have to look at the database to realise that."

Rodney opened his eyes and glanced across at John. Even through the pain, there was a flicker of amusement and John grinned back at him and patted his arm again as the medical team arrived.

"Don't touch anything!" Rodney said.

Carson raised his eyebrows where he had stopped in the doorway.

"Well you can touch me," Rodney added with a grimace.

Carson rolled his eyes and came over to help fix up Rodney's injured leg. Sheppard drew Rodney's arm over his shoulders after Carson had patched the wound and then dragged him to the infirmary.


	30. Shapes

_Here you are, **angelvala87**..._

**_Shapes_**

Rodney stood as still as he could in absolute terror in the mess hall with the sharp edge of a wicked knife pressed against his neck so hard that it was drawing blood. He was an unlikely and unwilling hostage, but that had not stopped him from being the one chosen by the crazy marine.

Dark red liquid welled up around the blade, ran down his throat and pooled against the collar of his shirt. He could feel the dampness spreading downwards over his chest. He knew he would not be able to take much more until the artery was severed and then he would be left bleeding out and gasping with nothing the others could do for him.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a mighty explosion with its associated bright light nearby and Rodney was falling as he was overwhelmed by the intensity.

The knife had gone, but he was both functionally blind and deaf as his vision was filled with white and his ears rang.

He covered his head with his arms and pulled himself into a tight ball where he had landed and waited to feel the intense pain as the knife stabbed him somewhere in the body.

He flinched when instead he felt a gentle tug on his arm pulling it away from his head. No pain attached to the movement except for the incessant ringing and light. He had his eyes open, but only vague unformed blobs and ghostly shadows could be discerned running around through the haze.

Another sensation rested on his cut neck. It was softer than the knife, but it hurt and he tried to push it away in fear. Something grabbed his hand and held it tightly. It felt like a small hand clasped in his own and he knew it was a woman's. He tried to calm his pounding heart as the adrenaline from the fright coursed through him. He tried to reassure himself that whoever was holding his hand must mean well, but the blindness and inability to hear anything was not helping to ease his panic. He could still see nothing but blurry shapes in the foggy void of his sight.

But the effects of the explosion seemed to be fading.

In amongst the gradually diminishing whistle he thought he could hear a man speaking to him, but he could not make out the words in the low rumble of the voice.

He blinked as what had been phantoms flitting around in front of his eyes, began to coalesce into faces and arms and hands.

The high pitched whine faded even more and the voice finally spoke words he could distinguish in his returning hearing.

"We've got you. Sorry I had to use the flash-bang, he was threatening to stab my favourite scientist."

Rodney nodded to show that he understood and focused on the outline where the speech had emanated from, until he could see concerned eyes looking down at him. He then realised that it was Sheppard, holding a bandage against Rodney's bleeding neck where he lay curled on the floor after his ordeal.

He looked across and hissed as the movement caused a sharp sting in his neck. Teyla was there with him too and kept hold of his hand. She smiled sadly and said, "Ronon took the Corporal to the brig. You are safe now."

Rodney remained silent as he relaxed into his teammates' care now that he could see and hear again. They waited with him for the medical team to arrive and check him over for any permanent damage.


	31. Strangers

**_Strangers_**

"This is Teyanna, I am her current favoured," King Trevin said as he indicated the stunning woman seated in the second throne next to his.

She nodded politely and her cascading raven curls of hair fell over her brown eyes in a suggestive manner. She flicked her head back and the hair shimmered in the morning light streaming through the stained glass windows around them.

Her eyes looked each visitor up and down in turn and finally settled unblinking and intense on Rodney McKay.

He cleared his throat nervously and rocked on his heels and toes as he looked away from the piercing scrutiny of her gaze.

Rodney looked up at King Trevin and asked, "By 'favoured' you mean…?"

Trevin laughed and Teyanna smiled at Rodney. "I am her husband."

"Oh," Rodney sighed and wondered why she was still staring at him like that.

"Better luck next time, McKay," Sheppard ribbed the scientist.

Ronon and Teyla were off negotiating with the King's advisors while John and Rodney were left to make nice with the leader.

Trevin was still quietly chuckling and nodded at Teyanna in encouragement. She smiled back at him, the expression lighting up her features in a way that left Rodney slightly breathless in astonishment at her beauty. She took Rodney's reaction as an invitation, stood up and ran down the steps towards him.

John stepped backwards and watched incredulously when Rodney did not move out of the way in time. Teyanna ran right into him and Rodney made a soft, "Oomph" sound when she wrapped her arms around his waist possessively and hugged him close. He blushed red and his hands started flapping around in a highly flustered fashion, but he was well and truly trapped in her crushing embrace.

Rodney tried to push her away with an indignant squeak, but she only snuggled closer and inhaled deeply where her nose rested against the exposed skin of his neck.

John raised his eyebrows but kept still and quiet as he looked on.

Teyanna let out a small contented sigh as she seemed to be enjoying the close proximity and smell of Rodney. He was deeply uncomfortable as the over attentive female invaded his personal space and continued to squeeze him tightly.

He asked Trevin, "What's going on? She's your wife!"

She started smothering Rodney with kisses along his jawline and across his cheek towards his lips. She paused and tugged on Rodney's earlobe with her teeth and he flinched so badly that he nearly whacked her in the face with his flailing hands. He decided that he had had enough. He shoved her away and she stumbled backwards with a hurt expression.

Rodney furrowed his brow at her and cried, "You're his wife!" by way of an apology.

She folded her arms over her chest and replied, "I am his sixth wife."

John whistled, "Hey, I like this planet."

Treven frowned down at them, "I have ten wives, just as every woman has ten husbands. Teyanna is still searching for her tenth."

Things suddenly connected in Rodney's brain and he held up his hands and stuttered, "No no no! You can't think… I won't… I mean," he tilted his head at Teyanna who had a puzzled expression. "You're very pretty, but I've got my duties back on Atlantis. I can't stay here."

John stood back and watched the fun with a smirk.

Teyanna moved in again and grabbed Rodney before he could resist. She slammed her lips onto his and he squirmed in panic as he kept his mouth firmly sealed and his eyes widened.

He forcefully pushed her away again and whined in fright, "B-but I don't know you!" He continued to babble, "Not that I think you're a harpy or a siren or anything."

She frowned in anger and swiftly moved her hand up and delivered a sharp slap across his cheek. The sound echoed around the room and Rodney's face turned away from the force of the blow. He winced and tested his tender cheek carefully with his fingers.

"Hey! When did kissing turn into hitting?"

Teyanna spun around dramatically and harrumphed before gliding back to Trevin. She whispered something in his ear and he nodded. She then left the room without a backwards glance at the man who she had just smote in his rejection of her.

Trevin's smile had completely gone and he looked grim and angry. He addressed Rodney, who had a nasty red handprint on his pale face. "You must leave. We will honour our trade agreement, but you, Rodney McKay, are no longer welcome here. The punishment for denying the approach of a woman is death."

John quickly stepped in front of Rodney and opened his mouth to protest, but Trevin waved him off, "But in your case, as you are not of this world and do not know our customs, I will merely allow you to flee with your life. But you are forever banished and if you return, death will hang heavily around your neck."

Rodney backed away slowly and John grabbed his elbow. "Come on, McKay, let's go before he forgets himself."

Trevin watched them leave with a stern expression as his eyes bored into Rodney's retreating back.

John said quietly, "A woman scorned…"

Rodney grimaced, "Don't even go there."


	32. Breakfast

_I'm a nice person. Really! I am... uhm..._

**_Breakfast_**

Rodney would have cried over his current predicament if he had not been so terrified. His arms were pulled up above his head and tied together at the wrists. The bindings were in turn slung over and pulled tight around one of the lower branches of a tree hanging down over him.

That was not the worst of it though; he was dangling in a river and the water flowing around him was up to his chest. The natives had captured his whole team, but he had been the one chosen to end his days as fish food. They had already used a thin knife to inflict a painful puncture wound to his abdomen so that the leaking blood would attract the biting piranhas, sharks, crocodiles, snakes and whatever else was lurking in the river.

Only his kicking legs were keeping him afloat and the muscles burned with the effort. His arms ached and it felt like they were being pulled from the sockets. His hands were cold and numb under the strain of the tight bonds and he could not even so much as wiggle his fingers.

His head went under for a moment when he relaxed briefly and a sharp pain in his leg made him pull himself up out of the water and look down. He shook his head and blinked to clear the blurriness and saw that he had started bleeding heavily from his thigh. The flow of the river carried the red taint away from him in a gory marbled swirl of blood.

He twisted his body away from the pain and pleaded, "Leave me alone! I'm not your breakfast!"

He winced as he looked down and saw a large fish nibbling and chewing its way through his shirt. "This is one of the worst ways to die!" he cried as the fish bit into him and took a goodly sized chunk out of his side.

He grimly thought, _"The all you can eat McKay buffet. But no takeaways..."_

He had always felt like a fish out of water on the missions anyway. He had envisioned he would spend the rest of his life in a lab, tinkering with technology and computers. But now he was going to die literally fulfilling the exact opposite of the metaphor that best defined his existence since he had come to Atlantis.

He struggled to move himself away from the many fish now trying to pick the very flesh from his bones as they ate him alive. He whimpered and tightly closed his eyes at the pain assailing him. He trembled and eventually gave up when it got too much for him and allowed his body to sag down into the water.

Suddenly his arms came loose, and with a resounding crack, the branch securing him snapped and he fell into the river.

Rodney's hands were still tied, but the ropes came free from the branch where it had just broken. He went under and let the water soothe his wounds for a moment until he realised that he needed to breathe if he really wanted to live.

He forced his legs to move and in one last flurry of kicks, he ended up at the shore. He pulled himself out until he was completely clear of his torturous grave and rolled over onto his back. His breaths came in pants from the exertion and blood loss.

"What a nasty, _horrid_ way to die," he mumbled and closed his eyes as he relaxed into the mud.

He could hear Sheppard berating him, "Stop lazing around and get yourself up, McKay. You need to get back to the gate and radio Atlantis."

"No radio. No IDC," Rodney said to his hallucination. He rested his bound hands on his chest and gritted his teeth. Any movement was inconceivable to him, but he could feel the weakness increasing as he lost more blood.

"Well, we aren't going to free ourselves, are we?"

"No, I suppose not."

Rodney forced himself to turn over and crawled up the bank. He shivered as his holey shirt billowed in the breeze and dripped diluted blood wherever he went. When he got to the top he lifted his head and looked around.

His mouth dropped open when he saw the gate right there next to the river in front of him. He would probably have been able to see it taunting him had he turned around where they had strung him up and left him to die in the river. Perhaps his picked clean skeleton was going to be left to serve as a warning for those coming to the planet.

He crawled over to the DHD and used it to haul himself upright. He hit the symbols for Atlantis and then the engage button. He then sunk down to the ground and hugged his elbows in tightly to his sides to try and make himself feel better even though he was tied up, bleeding, cold and alone. His valiant attempt at self-comfort did not work and he knew he was slipping away.

He did not have to wait long until the gate shut down and the wormhole reopened from the other end. A squad of marines came through and one of them picked him up and carried him back through the gate.

Rodney had his eyes closed and the pressure left him as he was laid out on the floor in the gate room. He said, "The others. They were taken."

There was a gentle pressure on his upper arm and he opened his eyes in time to see a knife cutting the ropes still tied around his wrists keeping them bound together. He winced when he saw how red and bruised his pale arms were.

He mumbled, "Sorry," and peered up to see that it was Elizabeth crouching down next to him with her hand on his arm.

She furrowed her brow, "Don't worry, Rodney. The marines will get the others back."

"But I'm making a mess all over the floor!"

Elizabeth looked down where blood, muck and water were pooling around him. She shook her head, "It doesn't matter."

Carson came over with his medical team wheeling a gurney behind him. He took one look at the state Rodney was in and asked, "What the hell happened?!"

Rodney winced as they cut away his filthy clothes and wrapped him up in bandages and blankets.

He mumbled, "They tried to eat me."

Elizabeth looked shocked, "The people?"

"No," Rodney said wearily where he was now lying on the gurney with IV lines in his arms. "They left me out for the fish."

His eyes fluttered shut as he lost consciousness and the last things he saw were Elizabeth and Carson's horrified faces.


	33. Fire, Part I

**_Fire (Part I)_**

"Disconnect the power supply, or it'll never stop!" Rodney shouted above the crackles of the flames as they spewed forth from the console in the lab.

A large lick suddenly came towards him from the malfunctioning panelling. It lapped at Rodney's side seductively and he screamed in pain. It did not set his clothes alight, but his skin stretched and smarted.

He curled his body away in reflex as another tendril lashed out at him. He narrowly avoided a scorching, but he felt the incredible heat coming far too close for comfort.

"Get out of there!" Radek called back to him from the relative safety of the corridor outside the hellish room.

"The power…" Rodney choked and went over to the wall. Smoke engulfed him and cut off any oxygen. The bright orange glow of the burning flames had moved to the floor and ran up the walls.

"Stay out!" Rodney cried as he reached the wall junction panel. His throat was tight and sore, torn away by the smoke and heat with each ragged inhalation. It took a massive amount of strength and effort to draw together enough energy to keep standing and lift his arms.

He pulled his sleeves down to cover his hands, but the heat rising from the wall still burnt him as he pulled the panel away.

The moment he did it, there was an explosion from the other side of the room. He heard a muffled shout above the roar and a gust of unbearable heat rolled over him and took him down.

Rodney gritted his teeth and pushed himself back up. He knew if he did not cut the power, the whole city would burn.

He silently cursed the Ancients for not installing fire suppression and extinguishing systems in this section, "A city on water… what kind of short-sighted stupidity…" his rant was cut off in a another coughing fit which grated right down deep into his chest and left him gasping.

He pulled a lead out of the wall and would have screamed again, had he had the air, as the palm of his hand blistered raw and the wire stuck to his skin. He wrenched it away with another small hissed croak. He knew the fire would eventually go out on its own now that it had no power.

He fell again and what little reserve he had of desperate survival and adrenaline had already been spent. He could no longer breathe at all as the shrinking fire devoured the oxygen he needed. He dug deeply into his inner reservoir of strength and crawled over to Radek, who had come in to help him despite his warning. He was closer to the door than Rodney had been and there was a bruise on his forehead. Although it was difficult to see under his smoke blackened face. Rodney could not imagine that he looked any better.

Rodney grabbed Radek's arm, and ignoring the pain and the blood he smeared on his friend's sleeve. He dragged him free and shut the door. Then the burning agony seemingly coming from every part of his body and the inability to draw even a single wheezing breath were lost, along with his sight and awareness. And he _let_ himself go, as he finally fell down and lay still.


	34. White, Part II

_**White (Part II)**_

Rodney woke up to the unpleasantly familiar feel of the infirmary mattress under him. He could also feel drugs wending their way through his veins and suppressing a thoroughly unpleasant sensation throughout his body so that it was beneath where he was consciously aware of it.

The dim lighting in the room showed that it was night time, but there was no-one around and he had been left to remember his pain and fear all on his own. That was if he could remember anything, but his memory blocked all recollection of the trauma that had landed him in the bed.

The infirmary conjured images of white cleanliness, the colour of neutral sterility, which hid the suffering and horror of anyone who passed through or resided within its walls. Anything other than that colour was instantly cleared away. Red smears vanished as soon as they dripped onto the floor from the injured. Sheets were washed until they gleamed, bandages quickly replaced if any other dark shade of colour marred them.

A tube under Rodney's nose was puffing oxygen into him and he tried to inhale it to lessen the panic as much as possible. But his throat was sore and scratchy and he swallowed painfully to fight away a cough.

He glanced down at himself and saw that his arms and hands were wrapped in clean bandages. There were some small gaps and his skin was red, blotchy and inflamed. Tubes were threaded under the bindings and a bleeping nearby sped up when he felt more pieces of cloth wound around his torso. He frowned and moved up his right hand and lifted the sheet which had been pulled up to his chest to cover him.

The bleeps got even faster and an alarm sounded when he saw that most of his body was swathed in white like a living mummy.

He looked up as Dr Keller came over to him in a business-like manner. His parched throat only allowed him to whisper, "Jennifer, how did I get here? What happened?"

She looked at him in concern and gave him some water. She then lightly rested a hand on his bandaged shoulder.

She said, "You were caught in a fire in one of the labs."

He felt fear gripping him and said, "My skin!"

"Will be fine in a few days. We got to you in time. The bandages are keeping it clean and we're pumping you full of antibiotics to prevent infection while you heal. Your lungs were also slightly damaged, but the oxygen treatment should fix them up nicely."

"Scars?" Rodney gasped in panic.

Jennifer shook her head, "Probably not. The burns weren't too severe, just very extensive."

Rodney relaxed back into the bed and the bleep gradually slowed down.

"Try to get some rest," Jennifer said and then injected some more painkiller into one of the tubes connected to him.

Rodney turned away and mumbled sadly, "I don't remember what happened."

Jennifer pulled up a chair and took his wrapped hand loosely in her own so that she did not hurt him. She peered back at him as though she was weighing her words before she spoke, deciding what to tell him, if to tell him anything at all.

She finally made her choice. "You dragged Radek to safety, but then the smoke inhalation knocked you out when you went back to seal the door.

"He had a minor concussion and we've already released him. The fire was very close when we reached you. Another minute and you wouldn't be here now." Jennifer smiled at him in relief and pride, "I'm glad you made it out in time."

Rodney furrowed his brow in fear. _Just another minute? It had been far too close. _He closed his eyes and sunk down into the comforting softness of the bed.

Jennifer rested his hand on the bed next to him without squeezing and he was grateful for the human contact even though his traumatised mind had made him forgot his ordeal.

Rodney narrowly opened his eyes and looked at his arms again after she had sat back in the chair just to watch him.

He smiled inwardly that she was with him, but then felt a sudden crushing loneliness that he had to be hurt before she would even notice his existence. If only he could get her attention in a less physically painful way?

He drifted off with his sight filled with the whiteness of his covered limbs and the sheet resting over him, hiding the rest of the bandages. He did not want the memories to return, but he was glad Jennifer was there with him and had stayed until he slept. He sent up a silent prayer that she would be there when he awoke, in case his mind finally decided to reveal to him the horror he had suffered and she could help him… maybe she would hold his hand again like she had...


	35. Why?

_**Why?**_

Rodney knew in the rational part of his mind that he did not want to die; not even to save others, oh, no. No-one in the Pegasus Galaxy or anywhere else could claim to have a bigger sense of self-preservation than one Dr Rodney McKay. So, why had he done it? Why had he gone into the dark cloud creature like that and become an accidental and unwilling hero?

The monstrous alien being had molested him through the Ancient shield until he could no longer breathe and he knew he would have died a painful death had the power gone even just a second earlier. Why had he taken that risk when his healthy unwillingness to put himself in the face of danger often overwhelmed him so much?

-----

As Rodney watched the dark cloud in the gate room, his sizable intelligence swiftly connected the dots and come to a horrifying conclusion. Only he could save them, and if he didn't, the creature would continue to feed on the gate and grow to eventually kill them all, him included. But he needed to act quickly before he or anyone else could convince him otherwise or talk him out of it. So he placed the Ancient device on his chest and the shield spread out over his entire body to cover and protect him.

No one even noticed what he was doing until he was too far away to be stopped. Maybe they hadn't thought he was capable of doing such a thing, so that option hadn't even crossed their minds. But he was definitely going to prove how very wrong they had been in that assumption. He just hoped he would not have to die to show them who he truly was.

-----

But there was always a price to pay for bravery; Rodney had just learnt that the hard way as he lay on the floor in the gate room. Usually it was one of pain and blood or failure and loneliness. But in Rodney's case, he had been lucky this time and had escaped with bruising and a few brief minutes of manly, heroic unconsciousness rather than total sacrifice.

He was no coward, even though others who had only just met him may well see him that way from his fearful reactions and what he said. Actions spoke louder than words in this case and he had nearly killed himself for people he barely knew. They had in turn showed him how concerned they really were about his life and well-being.

Sheppard kept hold of his arm, Grodin supported his head and Elizabeth rested her hand over his chest and squeezed his shoulder until he woke up. And above them all, Rodney saw Teyla peering down at him in concern.

"What happened?" Rodney asked groggily.

Elizabeth moved her hand down, but left it resting lightly against him. "You did it."

There was awe and pride in her voice and Rodney asked, "I did?"

"It went through the gate," Elizabeth filled in.

They all smiled down at him and Rodney felt a warm happy glow somewhere deep inside himself that he had never felt before. For the first time in his life, he knew that he was surrounded by people who actually cared about him and were not afraid to show it.


	36. Lunch

**_Lunch_**

Rodney knew that something was wrong the moment the small pastry delicacy he had just eaten slipped down his food pipe and hit his stomach. His throat hurt so much in its wake it felt like he had just swallowed acid. The small ache in his centre rapidly spread and increased until it became burning agony sending its toxic fingers up into his chest and down to his groin. He clutched his middle and gasped.

John, Teyla and Ronon were still eating from their plates obliviously as they sat on the floor inside the large tent. The village elder looked at each of them in turn.

Rodney uttered, "Stop… eating…" He then coughed and gripped his belly more firmly. It did nothing to quell the pain, so he rolled over onto his side on the ground and hugged both arms around his midsection and rocked back and forth.

Teyla placed her hand on his back. "What is wrong?" Her face was pinched with worry and the others had ceased their offworld lunching to crowd around the scientist.

"Poison!" Rodney cried and drew his knees up.

John turned to the village elder who was still eyeing them with great interest. "What did you do to him?"

The man took on a superior, righteous tone, "Men of learning are of no use to us here. They advance us too quickly and bring the Wraith. Any form of intelligence must be destroyed before it takes hold."

"That's ridiculous. You've created a planet full of idiots? Ugh!" Rodney whispered harshly and then flinched as the pain in his stomach stole his breath for a moment.

Ronon had his blaster drawn and aimed at the elder, who had guards of his own with spears and swords.

The elder waved his hand down at Rodney and said calmly, "He is too far gone to be quashed. The only solution is death, and he must suffer greatly for his transgression and defiance."

Rodney shuddered and gritted his teeth, but he was in too much pain to speak. John held his shoulder and Teyla rubbed a circle on his back, but his body remained tense.

John said hotly, "We're not from this world! If we'd known about this custom of yours, we wouldn't have come or we could've left him behind!"

Rodney suddenly twitched and groaned. He hissed, "Sick…"

With John and Teyla's help, he stood. His limbs were heavy with lethargy and his eyelids drooped in weariness as he bent double and kept his arms clamped down on his midsection.

They all shuffled outside and no-one followed them. The natives probably assumed that Rodney was already dead anyway. It would just take a while.

Rodney fell to his knees beside a small container holding some food supplies and violently jolted and cried out a moment before he retched and vomited for all he was worth into the food basket.

John smiled savagely at Rodney's choice of receptacle.

Rodney felt a lot better after his sickness, but he was still painfully ill. Together, the rest of his team helped him stagger back to the gate. When they were through, the Lantean medical team helped to stabilise him and continued purging the terrible poison which had had its deadly hold over him.


	37. Diamond

**_Diamond_**

"Oh! Wow!" Rodney gasped and left his mouth gaping open at the end.

"Exactly what I was thinking," John said with a similar expression.

Teyla looked awed, but the massive glittering cave they were being shown did not register in greed. Ronon was staring at the leader of the natives who had led them there to make sure no attack came while the others were distracted.

The native had the intricate clear rocks all about his person, in weapons, sewn into his gown and even in his hair. He looked pleased at the teams' reaction and announced, "This is the smallest shining cave. There are many more in the encircling Ridge of Light."

"More?" Rodney squeaked. He turned to Sheppard, but his mumble still carried to everyone else, "Just one of these rocks and we'd never have to work again."

John quickly hushed him.

The native's smile broadened and Teyla turned to him and said, "This is very beautiful, but we understand that you and your people are suffering a famine?"

The man's face fell. "True. I would give this entire cave for enough food to feed my people."

Rodney looked across at him and narrowed his eyes. John elbowed the scientist in the side to keep him quiet during the negotiations. The strike elicited an indignant grunt, but Rodney's eyes remained wide as he gazed around the cave with an expression akin to lust.

* * *

A few hours later, the team were making their way back to the gate through a field.

Rodney was scowling and suddenly snapped, "I can't believe you did that! He was going to trade a bowl of rice for a bowl of priceless diamonds!" McKay turned to Sheppard. "You must've been tempted?"

John pursed his lips and then said evenly, "Yes, but that would've been taking advantage. We don't exactly _need_ diamonds."

Rodney folded his arms tightly over his chest. "Speak for yourself. We could all retire early and buy everything we ever wanted." His voice lost conviction at the end.

Teyla said quietly, "But that is not what you want?"

Rodney sighed and John raised his eyebrows at the other man, silently asking the same question.

They all stopped as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fist sized clear, intricately cut, dazzling rock he had swiped. He turned it over in his hand and it glinted at him tantalisingly in the sunlight while the others watched him warily. At their unspoken question, he muttered, "It's for scientific analysis back on Atlantis."

The rest of his team did not make any moves to retrieve the diamond or wrestle it away from him. Rodney looked torn between his innate greedy temptation and rationality for several seconds. He furrowed his brow and then reluctantly shifted his eyes from the stone.

He threw it away and grimaced as it landed with a sharp ping. "No. It isn't what I want." He smiled bravely at the others as they started to walk back to the gate again.

Because what Rodney _really_ wanted was ZPMs and technology and mysteries for his intelligence to solve and keep his overactive brain busy. He knew that sitting alone in a diamond prison for the rest of his life would destroy his soul and slowly kill him in a terrible way. He knew that taking even a single rock would set him on that one way path, so he got rid of it before he was drawn in and trapped forever as a slave to his desire for the shiny stones.


	38. Spirit

_A/N – Written for __**Blue Shadowdancer**__, __who requested something really scary. I know it's probably M rated, but hey… this is your warning right here! Thanks also to __**Elisa/ed263**__ who gave me the first sentence! This is a horror PJM story, made to fit with the FF100 prompt._

_**Spirit**_

It was a dark and stormy night as Rodney McKay flew the Puddle Jumper all alone through the swirling clouds and driving rain. Ever fearful and afraid, his strength and bravery kept him going through it.

_Bang._

Rodney valiantly squeaked in fright and gripped the control sticks more tightly.

_Bang. Bang!_

"Okay, that's not thunder," he mumbled under his breath and a cold sweat broke out across his skin and made him shiver. It had sounded like something hitting the rear hatch. He envisioned a hand pounding the metal as someone or some_thing_ tried to get inside to reach him. He trembled.

_Bang! BANG!!_

Rodney yelped. The sound was similar to the rapid beat of his pained heart slamming inside his chest.

The lights suddenly turned out and Rodney lost his stomach as the Jumper dropped like a stone. At least he thought it was falling, but he could not see anything in the black void he looked into whenever his eyes glanced out of the windscreen.

_Clunk! Bang!_

Rodney's breathing was ragged and fast in panic as the ship continued to plunge and the invisible noise tormented him. He was scared of the darkness as he could not see what was there. Even his vast, rational mind could not process what the sounds were without being able to see what was making them. All his muscles tensed up in heightened awareness and adrenaline.

Faces came at him in the dark.

"Why did you leave us?" John asked.

"To save himself," Ronon growled.

Teyla looked angry and disappointed. "He did not even try."

Rodney cried, "I… I… I'm sorry!"

They glared, their eyes glowing harshly with resentment as they muttered vehemently at him.

"Wimp," Sheppard said.

"Coward," Ronon added.

"Selfish," Teyla lifted her head and her eyes blazed dangerously.

Rodney furrowed his brow, "No I'm not! Well, I _try_ not to be! I'm so, so sorry!"

_Bang!_

Footsteps in the dark… _clunk, clunk, clunk._

The sky was an unknown, but seemingly infinite height as the Jumper continued to drop down to its doom. But Rodney was now used to the falling sensation and was more concerned with the sounds and his team mates' words.

A flash illuminated the cockpit and Rodney had a fraction of a second to see again. There were people littered on the floor in the Jumper with him. They did not move and the light was all too brief for him to see who they were. But he knew they were dead. Their skin was waxy; their faces were ashen.

There was a high pitched scream next to him and he flew a little way up out of his seat in fright and thumped back down.

He willed the Jumper to fly again in desperate fear as it clutched his heart tightly and crushed his chest so much that he struggled to breathe. He muttered a mantra all the while and rocked, "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real."

A voice said, "We might as well not be. You killed us."

"Sheppard? No no no no!" Rodney moved his hands away from the controls and screwed his eyes tightly closed in anguish. He held the sides of his head and covered his ears. He felt something poke him in the centre of his belly. There was the sound of loud wheezing breaths, which were not his, right next to him and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Something was trying to get into the Jumper. But that was impossible! Nothing could fly in the storm and latch onto the hull. Could it?

Or maybe it was trying to get out? Which meant that whatever it was was inside the pitch black enclosed space with him… "Oh, no no no!" he gasped.

Rodney wrapped his arms around his torso and his clothes felt wet. He moved his hands out in front of himself just as there was another flash. The lightning flickered quickly and the cockpit was lit by strobe after strobe of harsh white light. Rodney glimpsed his shaking hands. They were bright red. He breathed, "What?"

"Now, you must die too," John said calmly as he brandished a blood soaked knife where he sat in the co-pilot's seat and glared at Rodney. He could only be seen in quick flashes, but it was enough. The red streams of Rodney's life force dripped from the blade where they could not adhere to the whole surface as they ran in rivulets to the deck.

Rodney clutched his bleeding midsection and gritted his teeth. The penetrating stab wound was deep and the pain had just hit him.

"You're a failure," Ronon said.

"You betrayed us and ran away," Teyla said. "You have proven yourself to be the man I always thought you were."

"Quiet!" Rodney begged and winced in pain as he turned to them and the flickering continued. It was like an old film reel flapping in a breeze. The forms of his team jumped from place to place between the flashes and they appeared to jerk as they swarmed around him malevolently.

Rodney focused his attention on John and whispered to himself, "You're not real. Why can't you leave me alone?"

John's face started to look strange in the continuing lightning spikes. He was pale and there was a layer of sweat shining on his skin. He said, "We're here now. You can't wish us away like you did." His face was a deathly grey pallor and black eyes sockets completed the corpse-like visage.

"It is time for you to come with us," Teyla said.

Rodney turned to her and his mouth fell open in horror as her flesh began to dissolve. He saw the same thing happening to Ronon. Skin and muscle and then bones all vanished.

He shouted, "Get a grip, McKay! It's not real!" He urged himself to believe it, but it was in vain, as what his eyes showed him was undeniable.

He glanced at Sheppard, who quickly lunged at him, his insane face barely showed who he was anymore, as a permanent mirthless white grin was revealed under the gore where the flesh had melted away and fallen from his face.

Rodney started to scream in terror as hard bony fingers curled around his throat and squeezed the life out of him. They cut off his voice and then he could not breathe.

The last flash revealed that the inside of the Jumper was drowning in blood. There was so much. It was on the walls and covering the control panels and the window. It ran in rivers, the sticky dark syrup flowing slowly all over everything.

Rodney fell from his seat and the pressure lessened around his throat until he could just about suck in air again. He was light headed and his senses were rapidly failing in the prolonged torment. He curled up and closed his eyes as he shielded his head from further attack.

Suddenly, he could no longer see the flashes as they stopped abruptly and light flooded through his eyelids.

He cracked his eyes open narrowly and frowned in confusion. The Jumper had power again and the lights had come on. There was no blood or skeletons, nor any evil versions of John, Teyla and Ronon.

He stood up. The Jumper was not falling, but flying along quite happily on auto pilot back to the gate. The storm was still raging outside, but it did not seem as dark as it had been and the clouds were just grey, rather than the ominous nightmare black. He patted himself down and pressed his hand into his abdomen, but there was no pain and he had not really been stabbed by John or anyone else.

He suddenly saw some bodies lying on the floor in the rear compartment and his breath hitched.

His team…

Rodney ran over to them and nearly fell at John's side. He crouched down and felt strong, steady pulses on all three of the bare necks. He sighed in relief and then he remembered…

The locals and the drink they had given the Lantean team must have done something untoward. Rodney had only had a chance to sniff at the liquor before he realised what it was doing to his team. He must have inhaled just enough to cause the hallucinations and it had worn off now. He hadn't killed his team! He'd saved them!

He sighed and then laughed in giddy relief as he went back to the pilot's seat and plonked down heavily. He smiled and closed his eyes briefly as he chuckled. "They're just asleep. You imagined the whole thing."

Rodney opened his eyes again and checked the HUD. They should reach the gate in half an hour and he did not have to worry about flying the Jumper himself. He leant back and stretched out with a satisfying pop as several of his joints realigned. He laughed again, "None of it was real…"

Rodney turned around in his chair to double check the others.

John suddenly loomed at him, his decomposing face a mask of evil hatred. He brought a knife up and moved it swiftly downwards to plunge into Rodney's chest. The traumatised scientist's eyes went wide and he screamed in terror.

The lights went out.

_Bang! Bang! Clu-unk!_


	39. He

_A/N – Hey hey hey! Look! I even posted a story on my Birthday! I'm so kind (to you, but not to poor Rodney!) :P_

_**He**_

The two marines watched the video feed, a man and a woman, in amused anticipation.

The mirth turned into outright laughter as the oblivious Dr Rodney McKay on the screen yelped when he sat on the carefully placed pin on his seat in his lab.

The male marine turned to his companion with a smirk. "He's such an ass."

She nodded in agreement with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows at her with a knowing look and tapped his radio, "Dr McKay to Lab Four on the East Pier."

She grabbed his arm and her smile had gone, replaced by wide-eyed fear. "No! We agreed we wouldn't!"

He frowned in exasperation and turned off the radio. "Come on, it'll just give him a little tap, teach him a lesson. And, boy, does he need it!"

Her face relaxed and she looked away. "Especially recently."

He chuckled, "Precisely."

They went into the opposite lab to hide and sure enough, their quarry came down the corridor a few minutes later. McKay called out, "Hello? I'm extremely busy, so this better be important."

She whispered, "I don't know about this. He could get really hurt.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Nah, besides, the arrogant bastard needs to learn his place."

The marines watched McKay's progress on the video feed. He was typing on a tablet as he wandered into the lab.

The male marine gripped a controller in his hand. His female companion cried, "No! Don't!" at the same time as he depressed the button.

They watched the feed, her in horror, him in vengeful hunger, as the arm of the robotic crane swung across the lab and caught McKay in the chest. It swept him up and smacked him into the wall. He dropped the tablet and it clattered on the floor as he fell down and did not get up again. He lay facedown, with his limbs sprawled, bent and twisted around him.

The crane reset into its recess innocently after its instructed work was complete.

The male marine nodded in satisfaction, but the woman had her mouth open in horror as she continued to stare at the prone unmoving form on the screen. She said, "We need to call the infirmary. We can't just leave him! He could die if he's really hurt!"

The man shook his head. "Come on, let's go."

She reached up and tapped her radio, "Medical team to the East Pier!"

The man grabbed her wrist and glared at her, "What've you done?"

She shot him a haughty look, "I could ask you the same thing!"

He sighed and let go of her. She stood up and ran into the lab and crouched down next to McKay. She reached out and felt for a pulse. She found one, but his breathing sounded difficult and blood trickled from his mouth. She winced and carefully rearranged his limbs so that he was in the recovery position and his breathing eased a little. She rested her hand on his back while she waited with him for the medical team.

The man who had been with her stood in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. The enjoyment of the death and killing and power he wielded as a marine had clearly made him insane.

She glared back at him and said, "He's bleeding! Are you happy now?"

He narrowed his eyes and said without any trace remorse, "Yes."

* * *

Sheppard sat in the briefing room and asked, "What happened?"

There was only silence as both marines stood to attention and did not look at him.

Sheppard sighed. "Dr McKay's in the infirmary. He's got busted ribs, serious internal injuries, concussion…" Worry flashed across his face and then turned into cold anger. "Need I go on?"

There was still no reply, not even a twitch. Sheppard sat forwards and asked, "Now, tell me, what am I going to see if I watch the video feed from the lab?"

The woman fidgeted on her feet and suddenly blurted, "We didn't mean for him to get hurt!" She looked at Sheppard with her brow furrowed and cried, "It was just supposed to be a joke!"

"Ask Rodney how funny he found it. You may not get a reply though, because he can't even breathe on his own." Fear played over Sheppard's features, but it was quickly stilled and then vanished entirely.

She muttered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The man had still not said anything or met Sheppard's gaze.

The Colonel turned to him and asked incredulously, "What the hell did he do to you to deserve that?!"

The man looked back at him like he was stupid and said calmly, "McKay's a complete asshole. You of all people must know that."

Sheppard's face contorted in fury. "He's a civilian scientist! He's saved us… and both of you, more times than I can count! If you spent even five minutes getting to know him better or reading what he's done for us, you'd never think that."

The man rolled his eyes and looked away.

Sheppard reached up and tapped his radio, "Major Lorne, get in here and escort these sorry excuses for soldiers to the brig."

He lowered his hand and regarded them both. "Court Martial and prison await you once the Daedalus next comes by."

She looked sad, whereas his face remained blank.


	40. Thunder, Part I

_A/N - Set during the latter half of Season One. I know every man, woman and dog have written a tag for 'The Storm/The Eye.' Here's my take in three parts._

**_Thunder (Part I)_**

John and Rodney walked through a field as they made their way back to the gate. John thought Rodney was being unusually quiet, but put it down to the stress of the Hive ships approaching Atlantis and yet another planet from the list provided by the older version of Elizabeth where the ZPM trail had gone cold centuries ago.

The world was getting darker as angry clouds bruised the sky in ugly shades of deep grey and blue. There was a sudden flash of brilliant white and John remembered the village elder assuring them that the 'Divining Winds' would allow their safe passage to return to the gate before the storm broke.

Rodney had also been more than eager to leave, but John had noticed that Rodney had appeared more terrified than he should be at the prospect of remaining on the planet and getting caught out in it. Rodney's face twisted darkly, like the black clouds now blocking the sunlight above as they turned day to night.

A loud crash of thunder shook John from his thoughts and Rodney shrieked in fright. John looked on in confusion as an irrational fear suddenly took hold of the scientist. Rodney unzipped and took off his tac vest. He threw it into the long grass and walked away.

"McKay! What the hell are you doing?" John went over, but Rodney started to run.

"Aw, crap." John grabbed the vest and sprinted after him.

"McKay! Rodney, stop!"

McKay may have had everyone fooled that he was a slow unfit scientist, but John now realised that when the man wanted to, he could run like the very Wraith were on his heels.

Another blinding light illuminated the scene, followed by a crackle of deafening noise. In the brief brightness, John had seen Rodney up ahead, now without his jacket or gun holster. His bare arms pumped furiously as he ran and John finally saw his destination.

There was a small cave up ahead and Rodney ran into the gloom and disappeared.

The rain began just after John reached the entrance and the electric tension and heaviness in the air increased even more. John slowed to a walk as he went inside and nearly tripped over a pair of discarded shoes and socks. He called out, "McKay?"

He thought he could hear a quiet sniffling, but put it down to the heavy roar of the rain behind him. He clicked on his flashlight and tracked it around the small cave.

His heart clenched when the light settled on a trembling, bare armed and barefoot man with his back against the wall. Rodney had his knees drawn right up to his chest with his arms curled around and his head pressed against them. He rocked back and forth and John heard a howling sob when another simultaneous light and rumble overhead reached them.

Rodney continued to gasp and whimper noisily and moved his arms up to cover his head. He placed his hands over his ears.

John sighed and went over to him. He dumped the tac vest down next to Rodney and folded his arms as he asked, "What's wrong with you, McKay?"

The rocking increased and he sobbed even more into his knees as he pulled them in tightly to his body.

John furrowed his brow, crouched down next to his friend and grabbed his shoulder. He lowered his voice in concern as he asked, "Rodney, what's up?"

Rodney quivered under his touch and continued to cry unashamedly. Through the sorrowful sounds of his outburst, John heard him whisper, "I'm a coward."

John held both of Rodney's shoulders and said, "Look at me."

Rodney withdrew even further, so John shook him and increased the pressure of his grip until his fingers dug into the soft flesh. "Look at me!"

Rodney lowered his arms slightly and moved his head up. Bloodshot eyes peeked back at John. Rodney looked shocked and the tears still steadily tracked down his face.

John said evenly, "You are many things, Rodney McKay, but you are definitely _not_ a coward."

Rodney looked utterly lost as he gazed back at John. He mumbled, "Yes. Yes, I am and I don't deserve to be here." His voice broke at the end and his lower lip trembled.

John knew they had all faced certain death before, at the hands of the Wraith, the Genii and many other enemies, so why had something as trivial as a storm reduced Rodney to nothing more than a cowering, shaking wreck?

Perhaps everything together had built up and finally broken the scientist. After all, human beings can only take so much before it is too much to bear. He had been reduced to nothing but a sorry excuse for a man in his sudden nervous breakdown.

There was another loud bang from outside and John could do nothing but watch helplessly as a terrified cry escaped the broken man in from of him.

Rodney closed his eyes and buried his face in his pale arms again.

* * *

TBC


	41. Storm, Part II

_**Storm (Part II)**_

"_I never said anything about saving anything," Rodney blurted shakily._

"_Not yet," was the calm reply, as Kolya's eyes blazed with madness and evil intent._

* * *

Rodney's fingers absently traced the recently healed wound on his arm, where he had his arms wrapped around his knees and his back pressed into the cold stone wall of the cave. The edges of the scar were a raised tattoo on his skin, an ugly jagged line left as a permanent reminder. He was deeply afraid of the loud crashes and driving rain outside. The flashes and noise brought with them memories of fear, but he was not ready to deal with them.

Not here. Not now. Not _ever_.

Kolya's insane face came looming out at him from the shadows and Rodney curled up tightly and covered his head to hide.

Kolya's even tone from when he had used the knife on Rodney came to him. _"Tell me about the plan you have to save the city."_

* * *

The Genii's face had not flinched or twitched or shown any emotion at all as he had cut into the delicate flesh of Rodney's arm until he was bleeding and whimpering in pain. Rodney would have told them anything to stop the torture and he had.

As if slicing his arm open had not been enough, Kolya had proceeded to soak him and Elizabeth in the rain until they were both freezing. Then he had shoved and bruised Rodney's back against the railing. Only Rodney's desperate energy had convinced the insane Genii not to kill Elizabeth or toss him over the balcony to certain death. But his back had hurt for days and he had been unable to feel any warmth ever since the incident. His bones had been chilled to the point where he did not think he would ever recover.

* * *

Rodney shivered in the cave and continued to sob into his arms.

* * *

The city had been saved and the evacuated teams had returned to Atlantis, but it had been hours before Rodney had had any treatment. There had only been the endless minutes, where the burning pain in his arm had kept him alert and awake and grounded him in reality. He had continued to needlessly torture himself by refusing any help when it was offered.

Sheppard had found him in the end and dragged him to the infirmary where he had been swiftly numbed, stitched, bandaged and patted. It had all happened before he had realised what was going on and could draw any strength together to fight the unwanted attention away from him and onto someone who was actually worthy of it.

Because in a way he felt that he deserved the punishment and pain for how easily he had blabbed just to save what was left of his sorry skin from a further shredding.

The infirmary… that was when he had been told that he had left it for too long and the stab wound would leave a scar on his arm for the rest of his life. And he was glad, in a savage way, that there would be a physical reminder left of what he had gone through; something to hide and be ashamed about.

Then there had been the nightmares and the way that every time he took off his shirt, the puckered red flesh on his forearm would catch his eye and an icy cold would take hold of his heart and make his breathing speed up in terror.

He could hardly bear to pull on a short sleeved shirt anymore so that he would not see the cut by accident. But he could not avoid seeing it in the shower and would close his eyes and tilt his head back to let the water run over his face. The heat did nothing and could not thaw the frozen block of dread in his chest.

Even when he folded his arms, which he did an awful lot at any moment during the day, the ghost of the pain from the blade flared through his skin like he was still being hurt by it. But the pain was in his mind and the fire it created left him weakened every time he felt it.

* * *

It was so cold in the cave. Rodney shuddered and felt a constant, steady grip on his shoulders. Something warm was wrapped around him.

He opened his sore eyes and lifted his head, instead of Kolya's evil face glaring at him, like all the times it had happened before, John was with him. His was a friendly face in the centre of the tempest and Rodney was surprised that he looked so concerned. John had even wrapped his own jacket around Rodney's trembling shoulders and held onto him tightly in an effort to comfort and snap him out of his fearful state.

Sheppard was trying to help him overcome his memories and live with what had happened. But even though it was weeks ago now, it was still fresh and he had relived the events during the torture so many times and so vividly, that he did not think anything could be done for him anymore. He was too far gone to be saved. He had gabbled and he would not blame Sheppard if he left him behind in the cave to die in misery and rot away until his betrayal was forgotten.

* * *

Because Rodney had been left all alone in the control room. Surrounded by people who only wanted to hurt him. He had bled and gasped and they had not cared. He had muttered and shouted and screamed as they cruelly twisted the blade inside his abused arm until blood had welled up and leaked out. He had flinched and struggled to get away from the agony, but he had been held fast by many men who were larger and stronger than he could ever be.

He had quickly caved in in the hopelessness, as he knew no rescue would come. He had broken down and told them everything. He knew he would receive no mercy and it had taken so little to break him he was ashamed at his weakness.

He was a man, just like Sheppard, and he should have been better able to withstand what they did to him.

* * *

In his mind, he saw Kolya, but when he pried his eyes open, he only saw John looking at him and holding onto him as he rode through the trauma and horror of reliving the torture and submission.

As the noisiest anguished cry yet escaped his throat, he felt arms wrap themselves around his chest in a hug. The touch did not hurt and he suddenly started to feel warmth slowly seeping back into him. No one had ever tried to comfort him in such a human way before. Sure, he had been patted and had his uninjured arm and shoulders squeezed, but none of that had been able to soothe him. Kind and carefully spoken words had failed. He had seen pity in the eyes of everyone who had dared to approach and speak to him, but that had made it all the worse as he knew they felt sorry for him. He hated that.

But this was new. His tears and rocking sobs stopped in shock at first, but then melted away along with his glacial heart.

He suddenly felt brave and like the man he had once been so long ago as his blood finally became warm again and flowed through his veins unhindered. It flooded his system in an overwhelming purge of all the coldness, it even reached his chilled bones, which had been draining him for so long without respite.

In that moment he knew that somehow he was going to be alright.

He smiled in relief and opened his bloodshot eyes.


	42. Lightening, Part III

_**Lightening (Part III)**_

After the end of the storm on Lantea, Rodney had walked off and hidden himself away without a word. He was hurting in more ways than one and it had been a silent cry for help that John had not heard. He assumed that McKay was just tired and had injured his arm fixing Atlantis. He thought that using that ridiculous bandage was the scientist making a big deal out of something very small like he usually did.

Torture had never even crossed his mind until he had spoken with Elizabeth. A downplayed serious injury was also at the bottom of his list until she said Rodney had borne his pain without complaint, even though he had been bleeding quite badly for hours without any medical attention. John had only known the man for a few months, but that had set the alarm bells ringing. Rodney never struck him as the type to suffer in silence.

John had assumed many things that day and he realised he still was, even now. He thought Rodney would be fine after he had been successfully dragged to the infirmary to be fixed; that his physical injury was all that had been wrong with him.

John had gone too far in his assumptions and now he knew he had been wrong about everything. It had taken a while for it to become apparent, but it was so obvious now.

* * *

John crouched in front of Rodney in the cave and said, "I didn't think…" _it had affected you so much._

Rodney cried in misery, "Nobody did! No-one ever does!" He scrunched up his face in mournful anger, "'It's only Rodney McKay. He's just a brain who knows some things. No, no, don't worry about him; he doesn't feel anything at all. He's only good for solving problems. He definitely isn't a human being like everyone else. Say and do what you like to him, he won't feel a thing.'"

He trailed off at the end and his face crumpled and his mouth opened in a grimace. His expression continued to drop and deteriorate until he suddenly outright burst into tears and buried his face in his hands as he shook.

John looked on in shock and fell forwards onto his knees in the soft earth covering the cave floor. He shifted around so that he was by Rodney's side and gritted his teeth. He tried patting and rubbing Rodney's back to comfort and quieten him, but the crying only increased. John was at a loss as to what to do. He sighed and very slowly and awkwardly wrapped his arms around Rodney's upper body and drew him sideways into a hug.

John said into Rodney's ear, "No-one on Atlantis thinks any of that. I don't about what happened to you before I knew you, but it's certainly not true now."

Rodney did not pull away from the embrace and gradually, as John held him tightly, the crying slowed and the sounds faded away into memory.

John eventually relinquished his grip on Rodney and sat down next to him, with his back also resting against the wall. He said quietly, "I thought you'd spoken to someone already about what happened?"

Rodney sniffed and rubbed his nose. "No. Well, I just managed to convince them I was fine." He pointed at his head. "Clever, remember?"

John narrowed his eyes. "Yes, but deception's not exactly one of your strengths."

"For this, it was. Anyway, I thought I _was_ okay. This storm brought it all back." He ran a thumb over the red scar on his forearm unconsciously and looked away. "It was easier then, because it still hurt physically. I convinced myself that there was nothing wrong with me that wouldn't fade with the pain of the knife wound."

John reached forwards unexpectedly and grabbed Rodney's right hand. He stretched the arm out and glanced down for a moment. He said, "But it _is_ still there. It'll take time, but it _will_ fade."

Rodney sniffed and wiped his nose. John got up and retrieved the abandoned shoes and passed them to Rodney.

As Rodney slowly put them back on he asked, "Is this going to be a problem for my future on the team? If it were an option, I'd go back to Earth and never look back."

John kept silent. He just did not know yet. The one thing he did know was that going back to Earth to recover was not an option, as they were completely cut off. But Rodney was clearly deeply disturbed mentally by his traumatic experience, even if it had taken time for it to come out. His raw reaction showed that the open wounds had not been as easily healed as he had pretended.

John had seen enough of war to know that everyone dealt with torture in a different way. It could destroy some people and strengthen others. Rodney walked the fine line between the two, had anyone seen him a moment ago, they would have judged his state as irredeemable, but now he seemed to be coping once more and had got control back.

John and all of Atlantis could not afford Rodney to remain forever damaged. They needed him to get better if they stood any chance at all when the Wraith arrived. He was their best chance, and John would even have sworn, their _only_ chance of survival with all the odds stacked against them.

The stress was only going to increase, almost like a new form of torment. And Rodney needed to be ready for it. He could not break again. Not now with the Hive ships on the way when the fate of all the lives on Atlantis would be resting on his shoulders.

* * *

The clouds rolled away and the sun shone down. The air was light and breezy and the blue sky belied the power of what had just transpired. The fields back to the gate were muddy, but neither man complained, even McKay.

John had given his jacket to Rodney. They had trawled the field and found the gun so that none of the natives ever stumbled across it. When it was located, Rodney's jacket was soaked through, so John carried it in his hand.

Rodney's eyes were puffy, but he had stopped sniffing a while ago and his voice was smooth again as he talked calmly.

He turned to John and sighed just before he spoke like he was continuing a conversation they had just been having. "I just… I don't know…" Rodney waved one hand in front of himself as he drew his shoulders forwards to force the words out of his core. "I… I feel like I should've been better, stronger… lasted longer. Hell, not given in at all."

John knew what he was talking about though. "You're not a soldier, McKay. We're trained for it, accept it, and in a way _expect_ it, as a hazard of the job and a consequence of war."

Rodney swiped his hand at a long piece of grass and then grabbed another and uprooted it. He muttered quietly without meeting John's eyes, "But he hardly hurt me at all."

John turned to Rodney and said very flatly, "Yes. He did. And I'm glad you told him what he wanted to know and he stopped."

"But you sounded so disappointed on the radio."

"That was before I knew what he'd done to you."

Rodney picked at the stem of grass in his hand until it was nothing but tiny shreds dropped into the field and swallowed up by the multitude of swaying green. "I shouldn't have broken at all."

John frowned. "You're too hard on yourself. Back on Atlantis, you're surrounded by marines, but you mustn't compare yourself to them."

"Why not? We're all human."

"Yes, but they're the best of the best in the army. They chose to put themselves in the line of fire and should be physically protecting you and all the other scientists while your brilliant brain solves whatever problem threatens us all."

Rodney opened his mouth, but did not speak. He grabbed a whole handful of grass and gave it a yank. He kept his hands busy tearing it up as they got closer to the gate with every step.

John was the one who sighed before he spoke this time. "_I_ should be the one who's upset, because I failed you and therefore I failed in my job. I didn't protect you or get to you in time to prevent what Kolya did to both you and Elizabeth."

Rodney was pensive again for a moment. He ran out of grass, so he plucked another strand and slowly peeled it in distraction while he thought. After a while he said, "I needed to tell him. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing. Maybe that meant I gave up too easily? I don't know. If I hadn't then he wouldn't have taken us to the grounding station to fix it in time to save the city."

John smiled. "Well, then, it was all okay in the end."

Rodney grimaced and paused in his efforts with the latest piece of grass to be subjected to his abuse. His voice rose as he said indignantly, "But it was the whole principal of it!"

"I know, but men have broken under just the threat of violence, torture and pain and you took it."

Rodney stopped walking and soon afterwards, so did John. He went over to the scientist and took hold of his shoulders again. Rodney looked away until John squeezed him and his eyes slowly lifted until they met.

John looked at him intensely and said, "You're a better man than that, but somehow, I knew you were. Why do you think I chose you for the team?"

Rodney furrowed his brow. "Misguided insanity?"

John shook his head, "No. I saw something more in you, Rodney McKay. And I know I made the right choice."

"You still think that? Even now?"

"_Especially_ now. Everyone has a weakness…"

Rodney muttered, "Or more than one."

"But I've yet to discover yours. You saved the city and everyone in it. Yet again. And for that you should be proud."

Rodney suddenly beamed at John, an expression which had been missing from his face since before the storm on Lantea. His smile quickly vanished and he started to look bewildered and guilty. John squeezed his shoulders once more and then let go.

They started to walk again and Rodney did not pick any more grass.

John smirked and looked over at him. Rodney was smiling once more, his sore eyes almost masked by the happy expression. John said, "I won't tell anyone what happened here on one condition."

Rodney's face fell and his eyes widened in worry. "What?"

"That you don't tell anyone what I just said."

Rodney held out his hand. "Deal."

John grasped it and they shook.

Rodney smirked at him as they parted. "I think I missed the 'or I'll kill you' in that exchange."

John raised his eyebrows and said, "I was thinking it."

When they broke away, Rodney looked up into the sky and closed his eyes briefly to let the sun warm his skin. Things always seemed better in the light of a clear day and at that moment, even with the Wraith on their seemingly unstoppable approach to Atlantis and a final showdown, things were looking up. The day seemed brighter to him than it had done for many weeks.


	43. Circle, Part I

_**Circle (Part I)**_

What was it with the Pegasus Galaxy humans and their constant targeting of civilian scientists? Rodney thought as he lay as still as possible on the ground. The hard, rough surface tore at his flesh and there was an uncomfortably sharp stone digging into the bare skin of his side.

He gritted his teeth and bore it. It was less of an annoyance than how his insides were feeling at that moment and he knew what would happen if he were to move even in the slightest.

He tilted his head right and then left, and saw… the gate. It was usually like a beacon and the thought of hope in a barren and friendless land. An aim during a nightmare mission gone wrong. Salvation and safety. The way out.

But he was too badly injured to shift himself to reach it. The ring of darkness remained empty as it taunted him. He closed his sore eyes and fell down into the memories of what had happened.

The natives had snatched him away from under his teammate's noses. He had heard them fighting, but by then it was too late for him to escape and help out.

He had been locked up briefly and then hauled before what passed for a judge on this hostile world. He had then been sentenced to 'death by Wraith in the wilderness.' Whatever that meant.

At the time he was unsure what he was being charged for, but usually it was just his existence which made the xenophobic, scientist-hating denizens of the planets they visited go after him for trespass. As if that justified it. But mostly it was used as an excuse to attack him for being alive to steal oxygen in order to breathe.

They had proceeded to strip and then slap and smack him around with their fists. He had struggled and shouted at them. After he had fallen they had seemed reluctant to use their hands so that they would not have to touch him.

Therefore they had resorted to kicking. Every savage and swift strike had screamed at him in pain at first, but then, as he had faded away and detached himself from the brutality, his body had become numb to the impacts. He had covered his head so they had instead aimed their blows at his vulnerable midsection. Raining further contusions over and into pre-existing bruises and inner pain.

Many people had stood all around him in a tight ring so he could not roll away without meeting another boot and having the foot bury or stamp itself somewhere in him.

Head, chest, groin… no part of him was spared from the kicking. He had choked on a little blood as he had lain there and they beaten him into the ground and it felt like his insides were being turned into pulp.

After he had passed out, they must have dragged him to where he had woken up; if the bleeding scrapes on his unclad body were anything to go by.

They had left him alone to bleed and die before his team would have a chance to find him. That was if they were free themselves.

He shivered. It was cold. Although the sun shone down warmly; he still trembled. The natives had certainly done a good job at tenderising him ready for the Wraith. He had a feeling that most people usually died before they could be eaten by the life suckers. Not that, 'Bash him as hard as you can,' had been in the sentence. It seemed that they had only done that out of spite.

He was too weak to give the Wraith anything much though and probably would not be very tasty in his current condition. He bunched his hands into loose fists and gripped the grass under him. The tightening of the bruised muscles in his arms to achieve such a thing made him gasp.

He looked down at himself and the blunt pain encircling him increased when he saw that his skin was a red and purple map of agony where it remained sealed over the bleeding injuries deep inside him.

Why didn't the others hurry up and rescue him? What had happened to his team anyway? Had they been subjected to the same treatment? Were they lying around here somewhere too?

He had a feeling that he was about to become an easy meal for a ravenous, but lazy predator. Maybe it would take pity on him and at least have the mercy to kill him before it ate him alive and tore him to pieces as it feasted. He was definitely not going to pray or beg for death no matter how much it hurt.

He sighed sadly and closed his eyes as he let unconsciousness take him away without a fight.


	44. Teammates, Part II

_**Teammates (Part II)**_

Rodney's trail was already cold by the time John, Teyla and Ronon were been released without charge. The reason for their incarceration was still a mystery. They asked around in the town, but no-one had seen McKay.

At least, no one was talking, even if they knew something.

John used his life signs detector, but Rodney was out of range when he tweaked it to hunt for transponders. The worry increased as the search led nowhere and it became more urgent and frantic.

Rodney must have been taken away from the town and John hoped he had not been led through the gate or it could take a very long time to find him. If they ever did.

Rodney was the core of the team. John, Teyla and Ronon's only purpose was to protect him and now that he was lost, so were they.

After a while they had exhausted the questions they could ask and had still not found anything. Their hunting had all been in vain and Rodney was still missing, so John called it

"We need to get back to Atlantis and get help to expand the search using Jumpers."

Ronon and Teyla both agreed.

As John neared the gate, he frowned and wondered what the large reddish purple lump on the ground was a short distance away from the ring. That was until it moved slightly and made a noise. It rose and fell and there was a small whimper.

John shouted in alarm, "McKay?!"

He dashed over with Teyla and Ronon close behind. After a few seconds he saw that it _was_ Rodney, but he was almost unrecognisable. He had been dumped and abandoned by the gate like a piece of discarded trash.

He had been so badly beaten that he was nothing but a mass of painful looking bruises, and maybe even broken bones underneath. Both of his eyes were nearly swollen shut and his lip was cut. His skin was grazed in several places and dust had already clogged the scrapes where it stuck to the blood, almost hiding them along with the livid bruises. _Almost_.

Teyla knelt down and took Rodney's hand in her own while John looked on in shock. He turned to Ronon and said, "Dial the gate. Call for a med team."

Ronon ran away without a word. John heard the soft crush of the grass and then crunch of gravel were he walked. He crouched down and laid his jacket over Rodney to try and warm him up a little. He heard the dial of the DHD and whoosh of the gate activating a while later.

Rodney sighed quietly and narrowly opened his bruised eyes. He seemed to realise what was happening around him and whispered, "John…Teyla… you… you found me!"

Sheppard furrowed his brow and took Rodney's other hand, "I'm here, buddy. We're right next to the gate. You'll be back, safe and sound, very soon."

John frowned. He knew Rodney had probably been bleeding internally for quite some time and must be in an awful lot of pain. "You'll be fine," he added, more to reassure himself, but he hoped some of that would break through.

Rodney smiled and his lip split open and he grimaced. "You came for me. Thought you might've left."

Teyla looked down at him sadly, "We would not ever do that, Rodney. We have been looking for you all this time."

She briefly rested a hand on his forehead and looked across at John in concern, "He is cold."

Ronon came a back a moment later, "They're coming. Said it'd be a couple of minutes."

John nodded and turned back to Rodney. He had to fight down a wince at the sight of his teammate and friend. Ronon went over and knelt behind Rodney's head. He had nothing extra with him to help warm McKay as he shivered. Instead, he lightly rested the palms of his hands on Rodney's chest, so that his arms were by McKay's head and he could peer, albeit, upside down, into Rodney's face.

"Hang on, McKay." He mumbled.

Rodney looked around at each of them in turn as they maintained the physical contact with him. He smiled again and said quietly, "I think I can do that now."


	45. Air

_**Air**_

Rodney gasped and wheezed. He puffed, panted and heaved; his ribcage expanding and contracting rapidly as he drew in lungful after lungful of precious air. Each inhalation and exhalation tore his dry and sore throat until he tasted metal in the back of his mouth. He was utterly winded and spent.

He rested a hand against a nearby wall as dizziness enveloped him. He coughed harshly and then sucked in another quick breath to replace what had been lost before he passed out.

He whispered, "I'm done for…" just before he leant over at the waist, dangled his arms down and then rested them on his thighs, feeling the flow of blood as it roared around his system and his heart pounded fitfully against his ribs. His muscles were starved of the oxygen they needed to keep him upright and they threatened to take him down without further notice.

He concentrated and thought, _In through the nose, out of the mouth…_ as he remembered what Sheppard had told him.

His chest felt tight and it _hurt_. His throat was raw and it was like his airway was getting smaller where his heart was pulsing right at the base of his neck.

And still he panted through the narrow passage to try and make up for the lost air.

"Hop to it, McKay! We're nearly there!"

"Sheppard." Rodney said quickly so that he did not miss a breath. The effort made the deep rasp catch within his chest and he ended up coughing again.

At barely more than a whisper, he said, "Go… on… without… me..." Because he knew he was a burden; always slowing the others down when there was danger so close at hand.

Sheppard sighed. He did not sound out of breath at all. It was probably like walking for him; nothing at all. Rodney heard Sheppard take in a breath and he flinched and expected an insult or, even worse, disappointment to be in his tone, but instead Sheppard spoke kindly. "No. The only reason why we're here is to make sure you're safe. There's not much point leaving you behind."

Rodney was so taken aback, he forgot his bleeding throat and heart attack and stuttered, "Really? Al-right then. I'm coming."

He stared down at the Lantean floor for a moment longer where they were partway around the particular loop of the city chosen by Sheppard, in his wisdom, for the hated, but compulsory, _Rodney run._

He sighed and straightened up, his breathing a little easier. The coolness of the ventilation around him finally started to have an effect on his warm, sweaty skin. He drew in the deepest and slowest breath he could and then grudgingly trotted after Sheppard to continue the enforced torture session with a bit more bounce in his step than before.


	46. Parents

_A/N - For __**voyfan7**__… because apparently I'm being too kind on Rodney..._

**_Parents_**

Rodney waved his hand held scanner about excitedly where he was walking with his team through the offworld pine forest. "I'm detecting an energy reading!"

Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon had to almost run to keep up with him as he tracked the source of what had piqued his interest on the tiny screen.

"Hold up, McKay!" John called out.

Rodney huffed, stopped and turned around. He folded his arms over his chest. "Hurry up then!"

He spun back and kept his eyes on the scanner as he walked. Ronon went up to him and grabbed the scientist's arm to stop him from falling a few times as he was distracted.

"What is it?" Teyla asked from the back of the group.

Rodney's face lit up in enthusiasm and he gushed, "I don't know yet, but the reading is strong and constant."

He closed his eyes for a moment with a dreamy expression and Ronon grunted, "Watch where you're going," as Rodney's foot caught a tree root and nearly sent him tumbling.

Rodney suddenly stopped. He pointed ahead and said, "Ten metres, in that direction."

Sheppard glanced around at the spot he had indicated and frowned. "I can't see any ruins or Ancient buildings. Are you sure?"

Rodney scowled and turned the screen around. "Look!"

It was filled with symbols and other gibberish. John nodded and drawled, "Okaaay."

Rodney moved to step forwards, but Ronon planted a hand on the over eager scientist's chest and held him back. Rodney glared at Ronon, but did not try to overtake.

John drew alongside Rodney, while Teyla watched their six as they cautiously proceeded.

Rodney soon spotted several smooth, and fairly large, light brown rounded cylinders on the ground. He aimed the scanner at them and gasped, "Oooh! I'm detecting a massive power source! There could be ZedPMs in those."

Before anyone could stop him, he dashed over to them and crouched down. He picked one up and turned it over as he studied it.

Ronon shouted, "No!"

Teyla was looking equally horrified.

John asked, "What's wrong?"

Ronon mumbled, "Put it down slowly, McKay."

Rodney ignored him as he tilted the scanner point blank at the brown object with a happy expression. "Wow! Amazing." He peered up at them all and said, "Of course, we'll need to get them back to Atlantis to run proper tests."

Teyla looked around the trees warily. "It is not what you think it is."

Ronon had his blaster out and was standing ready. "Put it down. Now, McKay."

John was tense. There was a dull thumping sound now and it was getting louder.

Ronon suddenly started firing and Rodney fumbled with the brown object in fright. "What are you doing?! Strange energy devices here!"

Ronon kept shooting and said, "They're eggs."

Rodney's eyes widened and he moved to place the egg back in the nest with the others, but just then one of its parents arrived and it was not happy.

The creature was fifteen feet tall and stood upright on its back legs. It had a feathered crest on top of its head. Long, sharp claws were attached at the ends of its strong, slender arms and hands. Its skin was scaly and dull brown, like its eggs. It opened its jaws to reveal row upon row of razor sharp teeth and its tail swished and thumped into the nearby trees angrily.

John said quietly, "Warning shots only."

Rodney lowered the egg down and gently placed it back with the others and his voice rose as he squeaked, "Dinosaur!" He held up his hands innocently, "I wasn't doing anything! Good dinosaur… Good dinosaur…"

It fixed its beady-eyes upon him as he crouched down, stayed absolutely still and he wished he could sink into the ground to hide.

It sprinted at him as Ronon fired shot after shot into its tough leathery hide, with no effect. The monster roared and Rodney straightened up just in time for it to rake its sharp claws along him. It caught him from the waist downwards, trailing several longs lacerations from the side of his hip, down his thigh. He screamed in pain as he fell.

The creature moved its hands forward and grabbed him around the middle and squeezed hard as it lifted him up. Rodney grimaced and screwed his eyes tightly closed as it crushed him. He cried out as the pressure increased and blood came out of his mouth making him choke and cough.

The monster shifted its grip until it had one hand around his upper body, trapping his arms in the process, and held onto his legs with the other hand as it tilted him sideways and lowered its jaws to bite into him. It felt like his skeleton was only comprised of so many brittle twigs in the hands of the monster, snapping under the strain and pressure.

Rodney kept his eyes firmly closed when he found that he could no longer breathe as his ribs cracked and he felt his joints being shifted out of place. He hoped the thing would not try to pull his arms or legs off. Spider's can survive it, but he would die in agony.

John shouted, "Screw warning shots."

Teyla and John angled their P90s and peppered the creature with bullets. It roared in anger and tossed Rodney like a ragdoll, almost like there was no weight or substance to him, and he smacked into a tree trunk. He slumped to the ground and stayed there; squashed, bleeding and totally broken.

John said, "Covering fire."

Ronon and Teyla obliged as he ran over to Rodney and frowned at all the blood. He crouched down where Rodney appeared to only be leaning back and resting against the tree, but he was unconscious.

John swiftly wrapped pressure bandages around Rodney's upper leg and hip. But at least one of his arms was broken from the way it twisted round unnaturally. And he probably had serious internal injuries from the dinosaur's squeezing grip.

Ronon called out, "There's another one!"

John furrowed his brow as he looked down at Rodney. He said, "I'm really sorry, buddy. I don't have a choice. Our guns aren't working and they'll eat you if we don't leave now."

He picked Rodney up and heaved the injured man onto his shoulder.

He moved away from the nest and the over protective parents. Teyla and Ronon continued to fire at them behind him and then suddenly the noise stopped.

John turned around and Teyla glanced at him. "They are not following."

Ronon frowned at Rodney's limp form. "I'll find something to carry him."

Teyla moved over to help John lower his burden to the forest floor as Ronon stalked off into the trees.

She looked down at Rodney sadly and then shared a concerned look with John. Sheppard looked around and found a stick and used it to splint Rodney's broken arm.

The scientist still had not stirred and Teyla cleaned the blood away from his mouth and made sure he was still breathing as John kept pressure up on the long, deep cuts as Rodney continued to bleed.

Ronon came back a short while later. He had used some vines to lash together a stout board made of impossibly straight branches. John raised his eyebrows in a question.

Ronon shrugged and mumbled, "Not the first time."

They carefully lifted Rodney up onto the board and took him back to Atlantis.

The dinosaurs roared in the distance behind them, but did not follow.

* * *

John, Teyla and Ronon sat with Rodney in the infirmary a few days later. He had been in intensive care all that time and Carson had not allowed them to stay for long.

Rodney was looking around at them all tiredly. His arm was in a cast by his side and most of his body was covered with bandaging to hold him together while he healed from the claw slashes, broken bones and internal bleeding. Any visible skin was terribly bruised and his face was pale and tight with the constant pain.

He closed his eyes and breathed shallowly through his mouth.

John said, "We sent back a team of zoologists in a Jumper to check it out."

Teyla continued, "It is very much like the planet we found soon after we first arrived."

Rodney opened his eyes again and looked at them all sleepily. He whispered, "I _hate_ dinosaurs."

Ronon grunted, "Overgrown reptiles."

Teyla asked, "Why were the eggs emitting an energy reading?"

Rodney sighed softly and winced. "I don't know."

John patted Rodney's unhurt hand lightly and said, "Well, as soon as you're feeling a little bit better, we'll sneak your laptop in here and you can analyse the readings properly. The other team should have some more info by then too."

"Not if I can help it."

John flinched as Carson hovered behind him.

The doctor looked down at him sternly and then turned to Rodney, "Ach, they'll be no sneaking things into the infirmary or hassling any of my charges until _I _say so."

He topped up Rodney's painkiller and then walked away.

John watched him leave and then turned back and said quietly, "I did say 'sneak,' right?"

Rodney tilted his head in a small nod and then the drug cocktail made him pass out.

His team stayed with him for a while longer until an irate Scottish doctor herded them out.


	47. Lovers

**_Lovers_**

Rodney was off saving the world while the woman he loved was slowly dying, trapped inside an icy room. He knew he was the only one who could save Jennifer now. But he had to push aside his feelings for a moment to prevent the destruction of the planet.

Under no circumstances could he let her die before he told her how he felt, but he still had one thing to do and although it tore at his heart, he knew it was more important to help everyone on Earth and he was not going to be selfish.

Lately, he had been experiencing a pain in his middle, and lower down, almost like burning, every time he saw her and walked by without a word. He recalled the hollow conversations he had shared with her when his nerves gripped him and he found himself floundering instead of speaking to say how he really felt.

The instant he set things in order in the control room, he ran to her and never looked back or stopped to see whether the plan would work.

He hacked at the door with the axe, a desperate strength fuelled him and gave his muscles the energy they needed for the exertion, even though he was cold.

He smashed a small hole and peered through. Jennifer was lying frozen and her face was deathly pale, but her beauty was still astounding even as she lay there unconscious… or worse. The sight of her brought with it his greatest primal fear and a cold dagger of dread stung Rodney as sharply as the love. It was like a physical pain in his chest, running throughout his core, right to his fingertips and into his soul.

His blows to the door turned into a panicked frenzy after that and he soon managed to climb through the hole he had made. He lifted her up and moved her into the dry corridor. His fingers brushed against her neck.

But there was neither pulse nor any breath.

He gave her his own breath, not stopping for a moment to think that it was a strange first kiss.

It did not take too many chest compressions before she coughed and came round.

His heart swelled in relief and pride until he thought it would burst. He had given her life, just as she had saved his so many times. He thought of all the things he could say to her as his emotions were laid bare in love. But in truth, he was afraid of her, and afraid that if he opened up she would never again look at him or laugh with him as she had. It would ruin their friendship and she would then seal all the doors against him. To open up completely was a struggle for him, he had been closed off for so long in rejection, but he knew it would be worth the fight.

Then she leaned in and kissed him. It was such a shock that he said the first thing that came to his mind and it was the truth. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you."

Then she said the unthinkable. "I love you."

Her cold breaths and soft words whispered across his skin and he looked at her in surprise as he held onto her.

She continued, "I have for some time now. Just wanted you to know."

Rodney's awe turned to confusion and a niggling sense of familiarity and déjà vu. It was like he too had once spoken the self same words, but in a dream or a time that had long ago passed beyond the scope of his memory.

She stirred feelings in him that Katie Brown never had. He realised that he had not known what true love was, until now. It went far deeper and was more intense than he ever could have imagined.

He began, "I…"

Before he could say or think anymore about it, she trailed light kisses across the flesh of his lips again, silencing him, and he shivered. But it was not just the cold making him tremble.


	48. Fixed

_A/N – I'm clearly in a tagging mood. Here's my offering for 'Grace Under Pressure...'_

**_Fixed_**

Rodney watched his hallucination of Samantha Carter until the moment the hatch of the rescue Jumper closed. But he was in a hazy world of pain by then and his sight was dimming even though the lights were on normally.

Once the door was sealed, he stumbled away from it and away from the terror of what he had been so certain was going to become his watery grave. The backs of his suddenly painful knees collided with the bench and he fell onto the seat. The jarring jolt went through his pelvis and hips, then up his spine, and sent him into further spasms of agony. He was soaked through and still bleeding from the wound on his temple.

He mumbled again, "Need to decompress…" But he knew his plea was too quiet for anyone to have heard. Radek and John were too busy with what they were doing to notice that they had just taken on an injured scientist who was now sitting hunched up around the increasing pain.

Strangely, Rodney's shoulders were aching and every shudder made the sensation deepen even more. His headache was getting worse and he lifted his arms to cradle his sore head in his hands.

He soon realised that movement was a mistake, as flares spread from the mobile joints and he gritted his teeth and trembled. Everything and every part of him hurt. It hurt to breathe and move. It hurt to shiver as his teeth chattered together. It even hurt when he stilled in an effort to draw away from it, but there was no relief and the pain was getting worse all the time to the point of excruciating.

It just simply hurt to still be alive.

The cold was only doing so much to numb him and he could feel his battered brain rattling inside his skull as he shook involuntarily and violently.

He called out, "Radek… John… help!" But his voice sounded reedy and weak to his ears and he felt himself sagging down. He closed his eyes, furrowed his brow and tensed to try and stop the spread of the constant agony, but that only made it more intense.

He winced and suddenly there were firm hands holding onto his upper arms. They steadied him.

Radek's voice floated into his mind, "You are safe now, Rodney. I have got you. We are above the depth where the shield is required."

Rodney whispered, "The pressure… need to decompress…"

Rodney released a long sigh and allowed himself to become instantly pliable in his friend's grasp as he finally gave up his losing battle with gravity and fell from the seat. He knew he was a dead weight in Radek's arms, but as he passed out, he barely even felt his impact on the deck as Radek lowered him down gently.

* * *

Rodney woke up surrounded by warm softness. His head was a little sore, but it was relief he felt, rather than anguish.

He kept his eyes closed and inhaled a breath through his nose. There was a scent of saltiness in the air he drew in, which told him he was near the sea. It reminded him of Earth and the constant crying of gulls where he had always had to hide from the sun and shield his pale skin as best he could from burns. But in this place there was only a quiet whirr and steady beeping.

There was something else underlying the pleasant aroma though, the tangy sting of chemicals. And that smell brought with it memories of pain and fear.

Rodney frowned as he mentally sifted through his thoughts and stayed away from the world. He remained behind his eyelids to gather himself before he could face whatever trauma had befallen him.

Where had he been? Why was he so relieved?

He steeled himself and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the dull colour of the ceiling above him where he lay and that connected in his mind and instantly told him he was on Atlantis. A few cunning links later and his stunned brain offered him more information; he was in the infirmary.

He grimaced as the disjointed links turned into long chains and images flashed through his semiconscious mind. A sinking Jumper. Despair. Cold. Tomatoes. Pain. Singing whales.

And… _Samantha Carter?_

Rodney furrowed his brow in confusion at the jumbled memories.

He knew that the Puddle Jumper was unsalvageable where it lay at the bottom of the ocean and he was beginning to think that maybe he was nothing more than a wreck which could never be repaired either. He had been so badly hurt and afraid.

He sighed and closed his eyes again.

There was the sound of footsteps coming over to him and a man asked, "So, he's all fixed up?" It was Sheppard.

Carson replied, "Provided he wakes up soon. Aye, as soon as that happens he should be up and about again in no time."

"Good. After all those hours we were stuck in the Jumper with him while he got his equilibrium back I'd think he'd be awake by now." There was a pause and then John continued with a worried tone, "Are you _sure_ he'll be alright? He got pretty banged up and he was all alone for a really long time in that tiny rear compartment."

Carson's voice rose a little, "He should be. A concussion and hypothermia…" there was a sound of rustling paper, "…decompression sickness and some bumps and bruises."

Rodney groaned and opened his eyes.

John and Carson both peered at him in concern.

Rodney said, "My head hurts. Carson, haven't you got any better beds in this place? This thing is ruining my back. Anyone would think you don't like visitors!"

They both smiled and John nodded at Carson, "Yep, you're right, he's going to be fine."


	49. Orange

**_Orange_**

McKay folded his arms and huffed as he gazed at his co-worker's computer over their shoulder. He was deeply irritated and, as usual, his brain-mouth filter was deactivated.

"This is an absolute mess! Did they give you your degree certificate in crayon?!"

"No! There's something wrong with the coding, which is why…"

"Obviously there's _something_ wrong!" McKay snapped back. "Try: the entire thing." He rolled his eyes and shoved the scientist out of his seat. The man's name escaped him, but he would be sure to find out so that he could ship him back to Earth on the next Daedalus loop.

He sat down on the chair in the lab and his frown deepened as he brought up screen after screen and confirmed his suspicions. "You've completely ruined the whole thing! This is going to take ages to fix. Hours of _my _time when I should be doing other things, like sleeping…"

"Relax, McKay," the man said in a clipped, indignant tone. "It's not even a live code, but just a matrix for a control crystal reprogramming system."

"Relax? Relax!" Rodney shouted, the veins stood up in his neck and temples as his anger increased and his face became flushed. "This was supposed to be finished yesterday, but I had to go ahead and give it to someone with the mental capacity of a carrot!"

The man suddenly drew an object from his pocket and brandished it at Rodney. He lowered his voice and said menacingly, "Why can't you just shut up for once in your life, McKay! I spent hours on that and it was pretty screwed up before I even saw it. I swear to God, I'll shove this down your throat!"

Rodney nearly fell from the seat as he squeaked in fright and instantly lost all modicum of authority he had once held over his fellow scientist. He clicked a few more buttons on the laptop as all the colour drained from his face and then he slipped away from the man with his hands held up in surrender. He was unarmed and he did not think the man would take too kindly to him tapping his radio and calling for help.

He moved away until his back hit the wall and he had nowhere else to go. He could not squirm to get away as the man rounded on him with nothing but ill intentions etched in his malevolent and furious features.

The man waved the object about in front of Rodney and he turned his face away as he knew he would die if it touched his skin.

The scientist threatening him spat angrily, "I've had enough of your constant complaining, McKay. Nothing's ever good enough for you, is it? All you ever do is berate me and my work and it's time to put a stop to that and _you_."

Rodney was well and truly pinned and trapped. He furrowed his brow as he waited for the death blow. The object was just as dangerous and deadly as any blade or bullet and the acid sharpness was certain to kill him slowly _and_ painfully.

It was truly a stupid way to die, death by something so small and innocuous. People would think he was totally spineless to be cowering from such a small thing, and for it to kill him would be the worst send off imaginable. Especially after they had fought off and always survived against the worst horrors the Pegasus Galaxy had to offer: the Genii, life sucking aliens, Replicators…

"Drop the satsuma and put your hands up!" a man called out in an imperious tone.

"Sheppard, oh, thank God!" Rodney breathed and opened his eyes. The message hastily sent from the computer had got through and help had come not a moment too soon.

The scientist backed off a little and lowered the orange fruit with its promise to Rodney of suffocation by citrus. The tiny thing tormented and gloated at him as his wide, frightened eyes remained glued to it until the rest of the scene faded out and his sight was filled by only one colour. He knew it was ridiculous that he was so afraid, but he also knew that if he were to be force fed a single piece, his breathing would slow and then stop.

At the thought of that, his throat started to close up. Ronon and Teyla grabbed the man and dragged him away, while Rodney clawed at his neck in panic and gasped, "Can't… breathe!"

Sheppard ran over to him and frowned. He grabbed Rodney's wrists where his hands were gripping his neck so tightly he was cutting off his airflow and blood supply. Rodney managed to drag in his fill of air and sighed.

John smiled in relief and asked, "Better?"

Rodney nodded. The phantom anaphylactic shock had been self induced.

John placed a hand on Rodney's shoulder, he held an epi-pen in his other hand, just in case. He said, "Come on. Let's get you to the infirmary and make sure."

Rodney slowly tilted his head again in a daze as the shock and adrenaline wore off and left him drained and exhausted.


	50. Middles

_A/N - Thought this one would be appropriate as it marks the midpoint of this slightly deranged fic challenge…_

**_Middles_**

Rodney lay sprawled on his back in the middle of nowhere. He gazed up at the sky blearily and curled his hand more tightly against his midsection.

He was supposed to be on Midway, doing a maintenance run. The station hung in space between the Pegasus and Milky Way Galaxies; the half way house and portal between the only explored sections of the universe. Now that was _truly_ the middle of nowhere, no stars and no planets for millions upon millions of miles; an unimaginable and awe inspiring distance, and as far away as you could be from anything.

He was certainly not supposed to have been tossed out of some random gate, in a fitful malfunction of the gate bridge

His stomach had dropped and then his middle had been slammed against a hard object shortly after his arrival. The instant pain in his centre told him that he had definitely done some damage to his squidgy insides. Perhaps one of his floating ribs had broken off and maybe even jabbed into his stomach or liver. But it hurt so much he could not localise it… or move.

At first he had thought the gate had been floating in midair to cause him to fall the moment he was thrown from it. But when he was able to open his eyes again after the strike to his abdomen, he blinked up and saw it was merely on top of a small cliff and he had landed on the DHD.

The already _broken_ DHD that was.

He narrowly peered up at it and his vision blurred as the pain squeezed tears from his eyes. He had already seen it though. The whole thing was fried and the most important crystal at the very heart of the device was missing. Without it, he could not dial out for help.

Suddenly the gate started dialling on its own and a wormhole formed in the centre of the ring several metres above him and out of reach. He tried to roll away so that he could hide from whatever was about to come through, but it was useless and the agony at his core was so terrible he closed his eyes and held his breath.

"_Atlantis to McKay."_

Rodney frowned and moved his hand away from where it had been resting on the bruising and clicked his radio. His voice sounded strained as he exhaled and spoke, "McKay."

_"Rodney? It's Sheppard. Midway reported that you hadn't shown up. Zelenka found a the kink in the coding and tracked you down."_

Rodney was glad he had not been jettisoned from a space gate as he would have already been dead and floating out in the cold void by now.

He gasped, "Couldn't dial... DHD's broken... Send a Jumper."

Sheppard paused for a moment and asked,_ "Are you alright, Rodney?"_

McKay sighed and winced. He still had his eyes closed and replied, "I'm fine. I fell after I came through the gate. I suppose the Ancients found it funny... putting a gate on a cliff."

"_We'll be there in a minute." _He sounded shocked. _"We'll bring Beckett."_

Rodney furrowed his brow, but did not say anything.

"_Don't go anywhere,"_ Sheppard added.

Rodney held his breath at the pain in his middle and could not reply with a sarcastic comment. Sheppard must have known it was bad as he continued to talk, even when Rodney stopped being able to speak.

Rodney heard the hum of spaceship engines soon after, and felt himself being retrieved from the unnamed world.


	51. Independence

_A/N - sorry this one's a bit late! I've been making lots of Rodney icons/avatars (see my profile pic!) which are over on my LiveJournal if you'd like a peek..._

**_Independence_**

Rodney finally discovered that would do anything for Elizabeth. Even go it alone and over the head of his team leader and best friend, Colonel Sheppard.

He did not really see that he had a choice. Atlantis was drifting through space after the Replicator attack and they were totally cut off from all help.

He justified that with her out of commission it effectively made him the new head of the expedition. As if that absolved all responsibility. It was a civilian run base after all and the only other civilian department head was Dr Keller. But she had recently arrived on Atlantis and had too much work on her hands to keep her patients alive, let alone have the time or experience needed to run the city.

Rodney was a thinker and a doer, certainly not a voice of reassurance and reason in a crisis. He panicked too much.

He was suddenly all too aware of what it would be like to be Elizabeth Weir. He thought it would be freeing; to have the liberty to do what he thought was right, but he only found that there was solitude in leadership and the knowledge that ultimately all decisions were made alone.

Everyone was now chasing him for the answer; like they always did anyway. But this time he did not have her to go back to and speak with; a peer and point of referral and advice. She never laughed at him, even if she was going to reject his ideas, and he felt completely at ease around her. Sheppard was similar, but John could not make the decisions as well as Elizabeth always did. He was more concerned with the military side of things.

Rodney did not answer to the military unless it was a tactical or dangerous situation, _like now._ It was the whole principle though. If he could find some way to save Elizabeth, he would use it. Sheppard did not want to admit that he needed Elizabeth too, nor did he have the means to help her. But Rodney _did_ and he ended up having to make the choice on his own, without the backing of his friend and fellow senior staff member. Elizabeth was dying and there was no other option. Sheppard was not there to ask. So Rodney disobeyed.

It hurt him to do such a thing, but he knew it would be worse not to. To know for the rest of his life that he could have done something and yet not to have done it, would tear him up more than any of the anger he was bound to get from Sheppard.

Anyway, he was arrogantly confident in his abilities that nothing could possibly go wrong. The same beings who had nearly killed her, ended up saving her life.

He knew that he was probably being selfish, bringing her back only to suffer the same fate as all of them; death in the vacuum of space. But at least the fearful faces would be turned towards her, rather than Rodney. And if the nanites could bring her back from the dead, at least one good thing would come from this terrible day.

-----

Elizabeth sat up on the bed in the infirmary, fully healed and very much alive. She asked in confusion, "John? Rodney? What's going on?"

It was almost an accusation, but Rodney still sighed inwardly in relief. She was alive, he had achieved one victory, and he was no longer alone in command of the civilian contingent.

There was still hope.


	52. Beginnings

**_Beginnings_**

The village elder regarded the premier team from Atlantis and beamed. "Welcome, friends, to Tangado!"

Rodney was feeling deeply bored on this new planet they were checking out. There were no energy readings or anything of interest to him in the mud and straw dwellings. He sighed and looked away with his arms folded over his chest. He was totally unimpressed with the people and the way they were living just like so many of the other backwards settlements he had visited since joining the lead reconnaissance team.

Sheppard elbowed him in the side and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Be nice, McKay."

Rodney huffed, but started to pay attention.

The elder went up to Teyla first, who was smiling serenely at him. He held up his arm with his hand bunched into a fist as though he was going to bring it down and strike Teyla a hammer blow. Rodney jumped and a cry of, "No!" was on his lips, but suddenly Teyla also raised her fist and linked arms with the elder.

Rodney narrowed his eyes and John shifted uneasily beside him. Ronon was tense, but had not moved. Rodney knew Ronon could draw and fire his blaster with deadly accuracy in the time it took him to blink, so he was not worried.

The elder opened his fist and took Teyla's hand in his own, like a midair arm wrestle. The elder nodded and Teyla also tipped her head forward. Then he freed his arm and moved onto Ronon. The elder held up his arm and Ronon duplicated the movements.

The Wraith had obviously visited this planet as their feeding grounds continued to spread out far and wide. They had succeeded in reducing much of the Pegasus to no more than fearful, superstitious people who were overly wary of strangers. The remnants of humanity left behind clung to their customs, because for a lot of them, it was all they had left after the Wraith had sucked their settlements almost dry and destroyed everything they had built.

Sheppard was next, and Rodney had trouble hiding his smirk, which was not missed by the elder, who shot him a slightly angry glance before returning his attention to Sheppard.

The elder moved up so that he was standing in front of Rodney. McKay rolled his eyes and raised his fist in the air.

There was a loud intake of breath from more than one person and Rodney suddenly blacked out.

When he came to, Rodney was on his back and bright white, twinkling stars were popping in front of him. His ears were ringing and he closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. As his sight and hearing gradually returned to normal, a blunt flare of pain steadily started to crescendo around his nose. His eyes were watering and soon after that, his battered head recovered enough to replay what had just happened.

The elder had whacked him really hard in the face with his fist.

Rodney opened his eyes in fury and dabbed at his bloody nose. John was crouched down beside him and helped him to sit upright where he had landed in the mud. John left his hand resting on Rodney's shoulder to stop him from falling backwards while Teyla and Ronon stood in between him and elder.

Rodney peered up and cried nasally, "What the hell was that for? I was taking part in your crazy handshake! What are you? Freemasons?"

Rodney drew out a tissue and wiped the blood away. He tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose which made him shudder and gasp at the pain it caused as he pressed the bruising to try and staunch the blood flow.

The tightness of John's grip on his shoulder increased as he trembled.

The elder was glaring at him while his minions eyed the team in disgust. The elder said, "You insult us with your mocking of our most sacred greeting ritual. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion."

Rodney glared at him and winced. "What did I do wrong?"

The elder gazed at him suspiciously and then his face softened ever so slightly as he saw the Rodney really did not know. He said vehemently, "I was greeting _you._ You must wait for me to raise my fist to the sky god who provides us with all."

Rodney looked away, "Oh." He sniffed sadly and grimaced at the metallic taste running down the back of his throat. He could not bite down a sarcastic reply, "Well, tell your sky god that I'm sorry, and I'll make sure to give him a good punch with _my _fist later."

The elder lowered his brow into a deep frown which was like the gathering of dark storm clouds above his sparking eyes. He turned to the rest of Rodney's team and spat, "If you are unable to control this man, then you are not welcome here at all."

John helped Rodney upright and he swayed slightly before he regained his balance. The pain in his nose had diminished to a dull throb. He suddenly found his anger building and glared right back at the elder through where Ronon and Teyla were still standing in front of him as shields. He said indignantly, "You broke my nose! I could have permanent brain damage! Do you have any idea how important my brain is?"

John squeezed Rodney's arm and breathed a warning, "That's enough, McKay."

A bubble of blood formed under Rodney's nostril and blossomed and grew into a gory bud. It finally burst into a warm trickle down his face and over his lips. He puffed it away in disgust and then clamped his mouth firmly shut to avoid swallowing any.

The elder was still glaring at him dangerously and was now fingering a long knife attached to his belt with wicked intent on his face.

Teyla said calmly, "Perhaps we should return later."

The elder nodded and kept his eyes on McKay. "That would be wise. Do not bring _him_ with you when you return, or he will have more than a bleeding nose to worry about."

Rodney's hot reply was cut off in a yelp as John crushed his arm in his hand until it hurt and Rodney was sure he was bruised.

John guided him away and they started to make their way home.

When they were out of earshot of the village, John finally relinquished his grasp on the scientist and Ronon said, "That didn't go so well."

Teyla said quietly, "No, it did not. The Tangadons are not very forgiving and have many rituals. The greeting ritual is the simplest."

Rodney sighed sadly as he felt an evil and debilitating headache coming on. He was running his hand over his face to try and clean off the blood, but it was dried on. His eyes sockets were steadily turning black as the bleeding from the punch spread out under his skin.

They reached the DHD and John turned to them all. He shrugged as he hit the symbols, "Could've been worse. At least they didn't chase us all the way back to the gate."

Rodney frowned and tightened his eyes as his painful nose shifted and then went through the gate after Teyla.


	53. And

_And now a little experiment in perspective… sorry it's late. I'm bored and tired and ill..._

**_And_**

And as I ran, I fell upon my face. I gasped as I buried my head into the leafy mulch and my nose was filled with the scent of damp decay.

And as I lay there, the stitch in my side flared ever more painfully and even my panting breaths could not quench it as it spread around my back and right through my belly.

And still the voice of my worst nightmares called to me and beckoned me onwards. "Get up and get moving, McKay." It was Ronon.

And I tried to reason with him as best I could, "I can't go on anymore, my head hurts, my legs are burning and there's a sharp pain in my side! You'll have to leave me." Maybe I _could_ actually still breathe I realised after the prolonged outburst, but I wasn't going to let Ronon know that.

And at that time, as I was contemplating sleep, the natives suddenly found us, because they were very real and their spears and arrows and knives were serrated and deadly.

And the pain in my side only seemed to get worse as Ronon grabbed hold of the handle on the back of my tac vest and hefted me upright. He was glaring at me as though he was trying to channel some of his strength into my muscles, or maybe it was annoyance at being lumbered with me. I could never really tell with Ronon.

And then I started running again. The crunch of our pursuers' feet was audible for a moment, before my ragged breaths and pounding heart and pain drowned out the sounds. Formulae of distances and speeds of pursuit ran through my mind unstoppably, along with calculations for the oxygen exchange taking place in my lungs. I was grateful for the distraction from the agony, but it was not enough.

And then I began to feel dizzy, and as my feet faltered once more, Ronon clamped his hand onto my wrist and did not let go. He all but dragged me along and I felt sweat creeping down my face in the cool, but humid air.

And then, just as I was starting to go over again, we reached the gate. But it was surrounded by more spear wielding natives than there had been in the village.

And I did fall then and where I landed I cried, "How the hell are we going to get past them? It feels like my lungs are on fire!" Which was not an exaggeration. Now that Ronon had mercifully stopped the torture, the pain was still increasing in my side. I frowned and pressed my hand against the widest and meanest area of throbbing.

And the ache turned into an explosion and Ronon had to clamp his hand over my mouth to stifle my shout. His palm was grimy and my mouth was filled with the taste of dirt. He still let me breathe though, and the whoosh of the air through my nostrils was loud as I tried to regain my composure. I glanced down at myself and lifted my hand away from my side.

And my eyes widened, and Ronon quickly released me, when I saw that my palm was coated with blood. The sweat on my skin instantly turned cold and I shivered in horrified fear that I was hurt and bleeding and had not even noticed. I watched in a shocked daze as overwhelming waves of dizziness and nausea rolled over me and tried to drown me in their smothering wings. I saw the dark red liquid cupped in my hand and it swilled around slightly as I tilted my palm in morbid curiosity so that it flowed over the edge of my hand and dripped into the undergrowth.

And as I collapsed backwards where I sat, I felt Ronon's arms around me, lowering me gently to the ground. There was a light tug of the material away from my chest as he tore the Velcro of a pocket on my tac vest and pulled out a bandage. He pressed it against my side and mumbled, "It's just a little cut."

And I could only shudder, as he pressed harder on the wound that I had mistaken for only a stitch from the running. I thought the light headed weakness in my limbs had been caused by the adrenaline buzz from running away. My vision faded out for a moment.

And when I woke up, Teyla and Sheppard were there. Sheppard furrowed his brow and looked down at me where I lay. He started when he saw I was awake and he crouched down. "Still with us, McKay?"

And I mumbled, "Hmm," and could not suppress the flinch and wince caused by the permanent stitch.

And Teyla looked on sadly as she said, "We think an arrow or another type of weapon grazed your side whilst we were fleeing. Ronon is clearing the last of the men away from the gate. I believe he is almost finished. We need to move you."

And I nodded as I was lifted upright. I gasped and gritted my teeth until I thought I was going to break them in the pressure in my jaw as the wound was ripped open again and the bandage soaked up warm dampness. With Teyla and Sheppard's help, I was soon pushed through the gate.

And all I could do was crumple to the floor in the gate room as my knees told me they had had enough. My legs buckled and gave way to the shout of, "Medical team to the gate room!"

And then, as I bled some more, my senses faded along with the pain and fear as nature's anaesthetist finally started working her magic. Numbness spread out as she embraced and lifted me up into her arms. As she gathered me ever so gently and hugged my weary body more tightly, the world finally went wonderfully black.


	54. Heartbreak

_A/N - I'm now back from hiatus and holiday, so more torture is in store for our poor Rodney..._

**_Heartbreak_**

Rodney fiddled with the straps of his tac vest as he walked along with his team. He was curious as to why his was different from his team-mates.' Just because he needed special pockets for his science gear, didn't mean that he should have a vest that was essentially just a thin piece of cloth covering him. It was just like wearing another jacket, complete with vulnerable gaps down the centre of his body where the clip straps came together.

He sighed and desisted.

The others needed the proper military vests stuffed full of ammo and bandages and heavy Kevlar more than he did, as they were the ones who always ended up covering his sorry ass when the bullets or arrows started flying. Apart from Ronon, but then he was just, well... Ronon; the man who could survive with only his blaster.

The trees thinned slightly and suddenly a whole army of grass clad natives with spears jumped out and surrounded them with a single shout of, "Halt!"

"Where the hell did they come from?!" Rodney cried as he raised his hands and the others raised their guns.

The lead native, wearing a fearsome sharp tooth painted mask asked, "Who dares to trespass on the sacred hunting grounds of our high leader?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Wow, this is advanced..."

The leader quickly spun his spear over and jabbed the blunt end into the centre of Rodney's chest. It caught him right in between the gap where he was unprotected just as he had feared. He was suddenly aware that he could no longer draw a breath and as he fell backwards and his senses faded, he was also aware that his heart had stopped as there was a terrifying stillness inside his ribcage. It took a few seconds for the lack of blood pumping around his body to register and make him lose all awareness. There was no pain, just shock and fear.

He did not even feel it when he hit the ground.

* * *

John tensed his finger on the trigger of his P90 as the native struck Rodney with the spear. He was thankful that the man had used the blunt end or he was fairly certain that he would only have been able to kill a few of the natives before the sharp end of a spear found _him_.

Rodney fell over, which was not unusual for him even though it didn't seem to have been that a heavy hit. When he did not immediately get up again, which John deduced from the lack of sound and movement in the corner of his eye, where he was still warily watching the natives, he said, "Come on, McKay. It wasn't _that_ hard."

He sensed, rather than saw, Teyla shift behind him and she suddenly cried in shock, "He is not breathing! I think his heart has stopped!"

"What?!"

The native cocked his head and said in a shaky voice, "But I barely touched him! Who are you people?"

John swapped places with Teyla and did a quick double check, but she was right. Rodney was completely still; his face was pale and his lips were turning blue. He unclipped the vest and did not even bother to remove or push up Rodney's shirt before he started counting out chest compressions. Rodney's chest felt a little bit loose, for want of a better term, under his hands, and John instantly suspected a cracked sternum or ribs, or both, but he did not have time to worry about that as he willed Rodney's heart to start beating again. They could fix the fractures later, when and if Rodney decided to join them today.

"...twenty-nine, thirty." John stopped and blew a couple of breaths into Rodney and then started again, "One, two… Come on! Four, five..."

The natives had not moved and the air seemed heavy and tense around him, but John did not have time to ponder the significance of that as he focused all his attention on the still form beneath his hands.

At the twentieth compression in the second batch, Rodney coughed and winced. The colour started to return to his cheeks and he screwed up his face as he moaned quietly. He moved a trembling hand up and rested it in the middle of his chest and grimaced.

The native cried, "How did you...? What happened?"

Teyla and John swapped around again and John lifted his P90 and said hotly, "You killed him! Why did you do that? He didn't even have a weapon pointed at you!"

"If he was dead, then why and how does he live now?"

John frowned in anger, "I brought him back, but he's badly hurt!"

The natives murmured around them and exchanged glances that John could not read beneath the masks they wore. The leader backed away and lowered his spear. The others did likewise. They suddenly all dropped to their knees and buried their faces in the ground. The leader cried, "Gods! They can raise the dead! Please, have mercy!"

Teyla said, "John, we must hurry, Rodney is not very well."

He spun around and saw that Rodney's ghostly white face was now streaked in bright red blood where it was coming out of his mouth. He coughed again and whimpered.

Teyla held his hand tightly and said, "It is alright, Rodney. Stay strong."

Ronon kept his blaster up and exchanged a bemused glance with John. Ronon said, "Help us."

The native looked up tentatively and nodded. He called out some instructions and a few seconds later the natives had Rodney on a sturdy litter and were carrying him easily between them.

"Bring him to the gate with us," John said.

The lead native stood still and Teyla elaborated, "The Ring of the Ancestors. The Wraith Pool?"

The native nodded and they set off at a brisk pace. John almost had to jog to stay alongside Rodney and make sure he did not decide to give out on them again.

They were at the gate in no time and the natives laid the litter down and backed off with their heads bowed. The leader grovelled on his face at John's feet and said, "Forgive us! Do not destroy our lands in retaliation for our wrongdoing."

John frowned, "We'll talk some more when and _if_ Rodney gets better. Until then, don't kill anyone!"

"Anything... anything..." the leader mumbled.

The gate behind activated where Ronon had been dialling and Teyla called for a medical team.

They left the natives still kneeling by the gate as they took Rodney through to safety and proper medical attention.


	55. Birth

_A/N - Search and Rescue tag..._

**_Birth_**

Rodney gasped as Teyla's clutching hand crushed his fingers, but for her sake, he bit back any other sounds - even the scream of pain. He just gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes.

"There, there," he said. But his valiant effort at offering comfort was somewhat diminished, as his voice was strained and did not even sound like his own. His face was tight with the suppression of anything louder which would be more like what he was actually feeling.

He ignored the fact that he was on a hostile hive ship and that they could be attacked at any moment, as his entire being was flooded with fear and lack of confidence over what he was going to do next. The rest of his team had abandoned him and Teyla was not supposed to be giving birth now! Their mission had been to _rescue_ her, no-one had said anything about babies and labour and screaming!

Why had he been left alone to become an unwilling midwife onboard a ship full of murderous Wraith hybrids along with their psychotic ringleader, Michael?

His back was to the door and soon he had no tac vest on either so that he could move more freely. He was going to ruin his jacket when he used it for catching whatever Teyla unleashed in a few second's time. He had not even noticed that he was a sitting duck; he was so engrossed in what he was doing. With an emphasis on the _gross _part. But at least he was shielding her from anything which may try to attack. He would be shot and fall first. They would probably try to turn him into one of them, but he doubted it would work with his Ancient gene. He would probably become a total freak and remain forever in pain from the botched transformation.

Then again, they might just wait and kill him after Teyla had given birth. Just in case a stray bullet hit her or Michael's coveted prize she still held within for the last few moments until her newborn met the world for the first time.

A cry brought him back and drew him out of his thoughts. He steeled himself even though he was both disgusted and terrified of what was about to happen.

The fear and trauma did not last long and then he was suddenly holding the new life in his arms, his emotions were on a rollercoaster ride and quickly changed into a wonder, which was almost innocent, and self congratulations soon followed. He had done it! He didn't turn away or drop the child as he was scared that he would!

Sheppard and Ronon returned then, and John gasped, "Wow!"

Rodney beamed and gushed, "I caught it! Didn't hit the floor or anything!"

Teyla smiled, "He did a wonderful job."

John said sincerely, "That's good. That's ... you did good, Rodney! All right, we've got to get you out of here."

Even Teyla seemed pleased with him, even though Rodney was not the one who had just released a tiny and quite disgusting slimy screaming creature from his body. He smiled and a paternal happiness he had never felt before was in his heart as it swelled in pride, even though it was still fuelled by the terror and pounding at the same rate as just a few seconds ago.


	56. Insides

_A/N - crude, I know. But hopefully funny..._

**_Insides_**

The leader of the planet John and Rodney were visiting waved around a perfectly manicured, delicate hand. He tossed his head back, making his shimmering curtain of shower-fresh, salon-proof hair land artfully over his shoulders.

Rodney scowled jealously and John tried to keep his face neutral as he struggled not to laugh.

Rodney asked a little too loudly, "Is that a _dress_ he's wearing?"

"Shh, quiet, McKay!" John said from the corner of his mouth.

Rodney's eyes lit up in mirth, "It _is_, isn't it?"

John shrugged, "Maybe. Just be nice and try not to mention it."

They followed as the leader and his two flunkies walked along a pristinely clean and sparkling marble corridor on the way to the main hall.

"Are there any bathrooms around here?" Rodney blurted. He clutched his middle and bent slightly at the waist as he winced in pain. His tummy had suddenly started hurting an awful lot, but it was somewhere deep within, where his hand couldn't soothe away the constant burn.

The leader turned around and flicked his mane of hair back again as he asked, "You wish to bathe? But you have only just arrived!" He beamed at Rodney, who grimaced back. "It is good to meet those with equally high standards of personal hygiene."

John snorted and mumbled under his breath, "I think it's for the _other_ thing."

Rodney was in such discomfort that he had to stop moving. He turned to the leader and his eyes tightened. "That food you served us wasn't off, was it?"

The leader glared in fury and huffed angrily. "You insult me and my people!"

The guards drew their stun rods to protect their leader from Rodney's rudeness.

Rodney closed his eyes and moaned, "Toilets… must be some…"

The leader threw up his hands in horror, "That is disgusting! To speak of such things in public! How unmanly and revolting!"

The guards ran forwards before John could stop them and both prodded Rodney in the belly with their weapons. He cried out in pain as the shocks sent his muscles into spasm and he crumpled down towards the ground. He caught himself just before he landed and straightened up.

As the last of Rodney's contractions wore off, he suddenly realised that he felt a _lot_ better. The guards seemed to have unwillingly eased whatever had been wrong with him. He sniffed and grimaced.

His eyes widened in horror and he shouted to John, "Run!"


	57. New Year

**_New Year_**

The firelight bathed the scene in a warm orange glow as it heated the air surrounding the natives and visiting Lanteans. It was nighttime and the stars twinkled high overhead.

Teyla was somewhere nearby speaking with the local women, while John, Ronon and Rodney stood off to the side watching the proceedings. John and Ronon looked mildly interested, while Rodney's eyes were darting around nervously, looking for an exit. But they were in the middle of a large field and the bonfire lit everything, so he knew that he wouldn't be able to sneak away unnoticed.

The source of his apprehension was the group of burly men standing in front of them. The leader smiled at John and Ronon, and then gave a look of amusement at Rodney as his eyes tracked up and down Rodney's form and settled on his less than skinny midsection.

He turned to the others and spoke with a loud booming voice, which reverberated above the crackle of the fire, "All men who are physically able must partake in the Snaffle Dance to welcome in the new moon and the passing of the annual sun!"

"I don't dance," Rodney uttered. "And I certainly don't do crazy ritualistic ceremonies." He folded his arms across his chest in defiant stubbornness.

John and Ronon joined the other men and without hesitation they all removed their shirts. Rodney tried to spot Teyla in amongst the women who were gathered, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

Whatever the natives were doing was like a reversed May Pole dance, with the men as the objects of desire, rather than the young maidens.

Rodney backed away with his hands held up as the natives approached him. He looked to John and Ronon for help. Sheppard stood lean and mean, while Ronon's massive muscles were accentuated by the harsh firelight. Rodney was really panicking now. All the natives had similar builds to Ronon, and their chests were hairless and glistening. In short, they were all perfect specimens of manliness.

Rodney thought of his own body hidden beneath his clothes. He was neither stick thin nor comprised of manly rippling muscles. His belly was slightly squishy and the muscles were hardly even defined on his chest or abdomen. As he focused on himself, he was suddenly acutely aware of the hairs under his arms and on his chest, trailing down his midsection, as they brushed against the material of his shirt when he moved.

The natives grabbed him and laughed as they overpowered and pushed him to the ground.

Rodney struggled and shouted, "Hey, leave me alone! You bullying, overdosed on testosterone, freaks!"

But their amusement only increased as there were far too many for him to fight off. They easily pinned him to the ground while others quickly pulled off his tac vest and shirt despite his futile wriggling.

Once they released him, he wrapped his arms around his naked torso and felt himself blushing deeply with shame as he compared his physique to the men who had just attacked him. John and Ronon had found him by now and helped him upright.

John looked concerned, "You alright, McKay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

Rodney kept his hands curled around his bare sides and well covering his front as he said angrily, "Yes, they did."

Ronon seemed quite at ease with only his lower half covered. He glanced up and down Rodney's quaking frame and frowned, "Where? I don't see anything."

The natives had started dancing in a ring around the fire by now, and they shouted as the women watched and called back in excitement.

John smirked at Rodney and grabbed his wrist with enough force to pull his arm away from him. Ronon clamped his hand around Rodney's other wrist and they hauled his arms away to uncover him. "Nope, nothing wrong with you," John said.

Rodney glanced down at himself and grimaced, "B-but this is _so_ embarrassing!"

Ronon shrugged and looked around. They both released Rodney's arms and he let them drop down by his sides. Goosebumps rose over his skin from being so far away from the fire and he moved his hands up and rubbed his upper arms as he shivered.

Ronon turned back to Rodney and tilted his head towards the women. "Seems like you're drawing some attention."

Rodney looked at the gathered women and several of them were watching the three of them. Rodney sighed sadly and looked down at his feet. His face became hot at the attention as he said, "They're looking at you and Sheppard."

"I'm not sure if they are," John said and he poked Rodney in his soft stomach.

Rodney released a breath in a whoosh and bent forwards as he curled his abdomen in an innate reaction to the prod. Some of the women clapped and laughed happily, but Rodney just felt humiliated and hid his chest with one arm and his belly with the other.

John and Ronon both gave up on him and decided to join in the festivities. Rodney stood still and watched them. There was no way the women would be looking at him! He was feeble and weak compared to the others. He may have been fairly average on earth, but this place seemed to be where the Chippendales resided. He stole a furtive glance at the women and his eyes widened when he saw that a few of them were still avidly watching him.

A couple of them nodded reassuringly and one pointed towards the ring of dancers around the fire.

Rodney couldn't help it as he felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards at the encouragement. The women smiled back at him and he felt his nervousness beginning to melt away.

Maybe his pale skin, hairy chest and lack of muscles wasn't so unattractive after all. It took him a few more minutes to steel himself, but eventually he joined in the dancing, in his own unique and awkward way. The volume of the cheering from the crowd of women increased as he did so, and he was surprised to find that he actually enjoyed himself.

------------------

_A/N – According to Urban Dictionary, 'snaffle' means 'to steal.' Heheh… men… *snaffles Rodney*_


	58. Children

_A/N – how about some_ _actual_ _pain now for poor Rodney?_

**_Children_**

"Stop running! Delicate equipment here, sensitive to earthquakes," Rodney shouted angrily when he heard some of his staff scuttle along behind him in the science lab like kids in a classroom.

The science team, under Rodney's guidance, had set up a few tables in a lab over on the West Pier while they ran tests to see what it could do. It seemed to be something to do with energy flows, but whether it could charge ZPMs or just power crystals… they were still working on it.

Rodney stood up and stretched with audible pops in several of his joints. His dodged and weaved between his milling sub-ordinates and placed a few carefully chosen scathing insults towards them to get them to do some work. He did not suffer fools lightly and some of them seemed to be worse than children that they needed to be yelled at to work faster and better.

He went over to the main control panel in the far wall and shoved a man out of the way. "What the hell are you doing?!" he shot at the man as his eyes tracked down the nonsense and mess on the screen. "Toddlers could do a better job!"

He was just about to press the control panel to fix all the errors himself (as usual) when an arc of blue energy shot out of the wall and whacked him in the chest. Had he not been there, it would've caught the other scientist. But as it was, Rodney bore the full brunt of the impact and was thrown backwards.

No-one reached him in time to prevent his back from slamming into the sharp corner of one of the tables. The man dashed over and grabbed him just before he smacked his head on the table or ground.

Rodney hissed and shoved the helping hands away from himself very angrily as he was pulled upright. His back was numb and slightly tingly from where it had hit the table, but otherwise he felt okay, so he walked back over to the console. He drew his hand up and coughed as he went.

"All these idiots! Lowering my immune response and making me catch a cold now."

The man said, "Dr McKay?"

"I'm busy!"

"But you're bleeding."

"Somehow I think I'd know if I was hurt," Rodney ground out and his throat caught again. The numbness was beginning to dissipate, and as it did so, it was replaced by something far more unpleasant.

"Your hand…"

Rodney glanced down at his palm where he had just coughed and opened his mouth, "Oh!" There were spots of bright red across his fingers. "My back?"

He heard one of the others radio for a medical team while the man, and cause of his injury, lowered him to the ground. "Get away from me!" he mumbled, but there was no fight left in him as he started to have difficulty breathing. The initial shock had now worn off to be replaced by dizziness and a lot of terrible pain.

The man had some assistance from another scientist and while the other scientist held Rodney, the man pushed up Rodney's shirt to examine the injury. He grimaced and said, "One of your ribs seems to have gone right through your skin and you're bleeding."

"C-compound fracture," Rodney slurred. "How did _that_ happen?" He turned to the man helping him and said, "B-bottom of the c-class, it was y-you!"

"I'm really sorry, Rodney. I was half way to fixing it. If you hadn't pulled me away, I would've seen and stopped the energy build up from discharging."

Rodney blinked up at him in a daze, but he was not going to apologize in front of the others, not when he was so badly hurt because of the error. He nodded wearily and then his eyes fluttered shut just as the medical team arrived.


	59. When?

Set a short while after _Phantoms_

_**When?**_

A gentle snore made John spin around to face the man next to him. They were supposed to be _watching_ the movie together for a spot of slightly awkward male bonding John had insisted on sharing. He found Rodney fast asleep, his mouth hanging open and drool flecking his chin. It was a refreshing change to have Rodney so quiet and still, but the vulnerability unnerved John and he had to shift his eyes away from the sight.

"Didn't you get any sleep last night, McKay?"

Rodney ignored him and sniffled. He shut his mouth briefly before it opened even wider than before with a long and low snort.

John smirked, wishing that he had a camera to capture this perfect moment for future laughter and teasing.

John continued to think while the screen flickered and changed and he watched without really seeing or taking in what was happening while he thought. When would Rodney ever get a proper night's sleep? When would his nightmares stop?

Rodney lolled over until he was resting against John as his core muscles relaxed. John was reluctant to shove him away, as Rodney's midsection was well bandaged under his clothes, and even though he never said anything, John knew that he was still in a lot of pain as he slowly recovered from the bullet wound that John himself was guilty of inflicting.

It was pretty gross though; having a grown man dribbling all over him, but he bore it without complaint. Rodney had forgiven him almost straight away, which was far too quickly for John to accept, so John felt that he still deserved some form of punishment for how badly he had hurt Rodney.

That was until the whimpering and moaning started. Had John shut his eyes, he could've been watching a porn flick, but the clutching hand told him differently where Rodney bunched it into the material of John's shirt in an unbreakable grip he didn't dare to pry away.

John's face suddenly fell when Rodney twitched, appearing distressed by something his unconscious mind showed him. John reached across and gave Rodney a hard pinch on the arm.

Rodney grunted, jumped and sat bolt upright with a cry of, "Please, don't shoot me!"

His face was full of terror which made John flinch before the nightmare faded away and seemed to be forgotten. Rodney winced and rested a hand on his side as the injury pained him from the rapid movement.

Rodney released a small, "Oh," and then darted his eyes from side to side and cleared his throat to try and hide the embarrassment at the semi-conscious and unintentional outburst.

His face quickly changed to irritation as he moved his hand across and rubbed his sore forearm instead, which had a patch of reddened skin from the attack. "That's going to bruise," he mumbled.

John pointed at the screen, "Wouldn't want you to miss the best bit."

"Oh, we were watching Spider-Man 3?" Rodney looked at the screen for a few seconds and then turned to John. His mouth tilted up incredulously as he asked, "It _has_ a best bit?"

John said grimly, "Well, it's probably better than the movie your mind just showed you."

"Hmm," Rodney agreed in distraction.

But what John really knew was that Rodney would only sleep soundly when he was free from Atlantis or when his team were strong enough to protect him from everything the universe threw at and used to hurt him.

Even his own team needed to be wary of themselves.

_Had Teyla not been there…_


	60. Taste

_A/N – I'm really down at the moment, so I ended up writing this. SGU may have something to do with it… Sorry, Rodney!_

**_Taste_**

The Greater Tareevean Tiger sniffed the air and bristled. She scented something different in the breeze and, like all cats, her curiosity was piqued. Her instinct and hunger guided her with ease towards the smell.

She stealthily stalked through the dark trees, confident that her stripes would hide her from her prey as she approached. Her ears twitched as she caught the unusual call of the animals she tracked.

"There's nothing here, Sheppard. My _very_ valuable time could be far better spent in my lab."

"I think it is very beautiful. My people found the trees contain a sap with powerful healing properties."

There was a hollow thud as though someone had hit the tree. "Got a sample," a lower voice mumbled.

"Well, that was a really worthy use of our time, collecting bits off trees. Can we go back now?"

"Alright, McKay," a fourth voice answered.

If she had been able to smile, she would have done. There were four of them. She often had trouble finding just _one_ animal to hunt and kill.

She silently approached until she could see them. At first glance they were much like the creatures in the trees that she had never been able to catch. But they were ground trapped and covered in colours she had never seen before.

One of them appeared distracted by a strange flat glowing object in his hands and stood behind the main group. She picked him out as the most vulnerable and least wary than the others and marked him as the easiest meal.

She sprinted and pounced. He glanced up at her approach, shouted in shock and ran, but she caught his leg as he tried to flee and raked a claw through it. He screamed in pain as the covering over his skin was shredded and her sharp claw tore his flesh. Blood from his wounded limb instantly soaked through the material and spattered the ground with gore.

He still had sufficient strength left to limp a short distance, but then fell down with a moan and rolled over onto his back. He shouted to the others, although she could not understand him, his voice was high with panic. "Sheppard! Tiger!"

He had an object in his hands which emitted a repeatedly loud sound, and she slowed down her assault as it frightened her. There were small stings as projectiles flew from the object and hit her incredibly thick and furry hide. And then the sound stopped.

She jumped onto him, pressed her paws against his chest and then stabbed her claws into him to keep him still. She tried to be merciful as she always was, and bite his throat, but he kept struggling, so she had no choice but to finish him off in a painful way.

The dark red syrup of his leaking bodily fluids ran out of each cut and slice she created and all over everything while he convulsed and fought. He hit out at her with a surprising strength, considering his terrible injuries. All the while she could feel the panting rise and fall of his chest under her claws and he whimpered and wailed.

She savoured the warm wriggling creature under her which would soon become still and edible flesh between sharp teeth and hunger as she devoured him.

The hot blood brought forth by her steadily poured out of the creature; her dinner. She tilted her head forwards and lapped at it as it flowed from his lacerated midsection. The liquid had the familiar taste of metal and the blood was a warm wine which gave life to her. She took the opportunity to bite into him and her prey released a earsplitting, high-pitched shriek. Other animals never usually made any noise when she attacked them, so it was unnerving and she flinched away from the abrupt loudness.

Her mouth was filled with chewy, tasteless cloth which had been covering the creature before her teeth pulled some of it off. It was unusual to her as most of the animals she ate were furry and this was a new sensation against her teeth.

He was crying now, the water flowing from his agony filled and desperate eyes as he weakened and the impacts from his hitting hands became ineffectual to try and force her away. She flexed her claws out further until they sunk deeply into his soft body. He gurgled and his blood streaked face was covered with more of the red as it came from his mouth and he choked on it. It would only take one pull of her claws to tear him right open, but she hesitated when she suddenly felt hard impacts into her sturdy hide.

She snarled and glanced up from her quarry to find that his companions were all holding things in their hands and projectiles were flying out and hitting her.

Why were the others risking themselves to protect the pitifully bleeding creature? That had never happened before. Usually her prey gave up on their fellow and left them to die, just glad that they themselves had got away.

It was the second strange thing she had witnessed about these new creatures. Firstly, her prey never usually fought and struggled so hard, resigning themselves to their fate. But this one had been deceptive before she had moved in for the kill. And secondly, a prey's companions never stepped in to protect the fallen one.

The metal and red blasts slammed into her resilient flank with a sharp sting from each hit. They threatened to injure further and possibly even kill her if she stayed for too long. It was not just her life that she had to think about, so she withdrew her claws without causing further damage and backed away with a low growl.

She was mostly unscathed and fled back into the darkness of the trees and turned around. She watched as the others came to the aid of her lost dinner. They bound the wounds she had created with more of the strange material they wore and carried. The white they swathed him in hid the flow of life lost as it spilled out of his body to the ground.

"Stay strong, Rodney. You will soon be back on Atlantis," the woman said.

The injured man muttered, "M-m-mauled… by a m-monster! Th-this p-planet… really s-s-sucks."

"I know, McKay. Just hang in there," the smaller of the two men still standing said.

The larger one replied, "We can come back and hunt for a nice tiger pelt later if it makes you feel better." The same man gathered up the one they called 'McKay' in his arms and the whole group hastily departed.

That was the third unusual thing about these creatures that the tiger noticed. They hadn't left the wounded one behind for her to scavenge like she hoped they would.

She licked her lips, savouring the bloody taste and feeling remorse at the lost promise of a feast. Her cubs would have to go hungry tonight, but she would remember never to attack creatures such as these ever again.


	61. Earth

_A/N - __Another tag? 'The Return' this time._

_**Earth**_

Rodney sighed sadly as he sat on the lab stool at a desk. He was bored out of his head and nothing he did could vanquish the listless pressure inside that made him want to pace around in nervous energy that he really shouldn't still have trapped within.

An Area 51 technician walked in, plonked an artefact down on his desk, and then snuck away without so much as a 'Hello.'

Rodney had been allowed all the time in the world to figure out what every object he was given was. He snorted at the irony of it. The world. Time.

Five minutes later he was tapping his foot restlessly, having already dissected the object and figured out twenty different uses. The private lab he had been assigned was cavernous, but eerily silent, and he found himself feeling a pang of emptiness because he had no-one to yell at. He half expected a man with hair which would make a porcupine jealous to come in and drag him away for a sparring session or an offworld trip to find his _own_ trinkets to fiddle with.

But no-one came and his shoulders slumped down in sorrow.

While he sat there, he also felt the ever-present envy biting into his slowly withering heart as he thought of O'Neill and Woolsey getting to speak and interact with real live Ancients! Imagine everything he could've learnt if he had been allowed to spend even just a single day with them! What was Woolsey doing there anyway? And O'Neill was hardly the best choice when Rodney was the only one qualified to grill them about what secrets they held and to understand the answers they gave. Then again, they would probably be patronising to the pathetic human in his inferiority to their obvious greatness. Although he was fairly certain he would've been able to handle them with equal amounts of snark, and his arrogant trait of superiority would not be easily downtrodden.

But no, he was stuck on Earth. All that he could do was imagine... and constantly hound the SGC every day to let him go back. At least Area 51 was better than Russia, so he was still in their good books and hadn't done anything really terribly wrong during in his time on Atlantis.

But what he had now was nothing compared to what he had once had and taken for granted on Atlantis. He was bitterly sad and nostalgic for the people who he had thought of as his friends. They had now gone their separate ways and he would only see them again in passing; if ever. He even missed running for his life in terror, but perhaps not so much the injuries he sustained in doing so. At least it had been exciting and challenging, but now he had nothing.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was so lonely that it hurt. The pain was somewhere deep inside him where nothing could reach the empty ache and no bandage or painkillers could soothe it or make it go away.

Phone calls were all that remained of the life he had lost. But he knew that in time, relationships would become strained and then disappear entirely; almost like they had never been. He had become so comfortable on Atlantis that he had even started to take his new friendships for granted, and he had been such a fool to let people into his heart!

He was not a creature of stone like he had been before the people he had met had started to soften him up and chip away at his defences to get right to his core. He had once learnt to hide his emotions through fear of rejection, and the hatred and indifference from his 'fellow' mankind, as he viewed himself as an entity apart from other humans. But it was going to be so much harder to rebuild those walls now that he had seen things from the other side.

What he found he missed most of all though, was everyone turning to him to save the day at the last minute. And knowing, that even under all the bluster and whining and complaining, that he _could _do what they asked and they would all pull through because of _him_ and usually him alone.

Earth was supposed to be home! But now he was coming to realise that Atlantis was actually where his heart lay. Or at least it _had_ been.


	62. Home

_A/N - Thought I'd post this next. It seems to link with the last one._

**_Home_**

Rodney found it strange that he fitted into a place just about as far away from home as you could ever possibly hope to get. Atlantis was where he lived, worked, breathed... and occasionally struggled and fought to survive.

He had always viewed his intelligence and arrogant pride as something which set him apart as an outcast back on Earth. He was sad that it had taken a distance of thousands of light years from the human society he had once known on his homeworld, for him to find a place and a group of people who genuinely seemed to like him without any ulterior motive. Well, maybe that was pushing it a little, but at least he was no longer met with outright hostility and hatred from _everyone..._ _all the time._

He knew that some people still spoke unfavourably of him behind his back, even now. But he no longer felt so bad about it. The harmful comments didn't bother him as much as they always used to, and he didn't have to build the walls around himself quite so high anymore. Because, for the first time in his life, he wasn't alone.

-----------------

Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla sat with him in the mess hall while, as usual, the constant endless stream of thoughts ran around in his mind.

Sheppard asked, "So what are we watching tonight?"

Ronon mumbled, "Something violent."

Teyla frowned at him and said dreamily, "I would like to see something romantic."

Rodney groaned, but the truth was, he didn't care what they saw. He was just glad to be a part of the experience with his team. Although he still hesitated to get too attached to any of them in fear of the potential future grief he would experience when they finally got sick of him, like everyone else always did, and abandoned him somewhere. He called them friends anyway and they made Atlantis his home. Without them it would just be millions of tons of twisted metal floating on the sea, with nothing but cold, empty towers reaching up to the sky.

The city was in his very veins, linked and permanent. He could never leave it now without being destroyed himself. It was even more of a home for him now than Earth had ever been.

For the first time in his life; he truly belonged.


	63. Hands

_A/N – Something a little different perhaps? A day in the life of Rodney's hands!_

_**Hands**_

Rodney's hands were always busy busy busy…

Fixing things and typing.  
His nimble, dextrous fingers flying across keys and consoles and screens.

Pointing at things and prodding inanimate objects (and Sheppard)  
…in controlled environments, of course!

Inside the guts of Puddle Jumpers.  
Valiantly sticking themselves into places where they really shouldn't go.

Being electrocuted and singed in shock.

Nuzzling against a warm chest when hurt.  
Burrowing under armpits or into clothes to hunt for a pain free place.

Wildly gesturing, snapping fingers.  
Waving off unintelligent ideas (and people) in annoyance.

Opening doors, transporting food and drink.  
Doing things every human (and man) must do…

Holding ZedPMs, guns and each other (nervously wringing).

Running away, firing guns, changing clips, flapping in exasperation when empty.  
Held out and up and open in surrender.

Being targeted, futilely blocking blows, hit and bruised and breaking...

But Rodney's hands were connected to his arms and shoulders and body.

And when they got burnt swapping crystals or damaged while batting away punches, he felt it too.

"Ow ow ow ow!" he cried, while Keller in turn held each of his hands in her own and splinted and wrapped the broken fingers and burns. The nails on his oft neglected and currently abused appendages were split and smashed and blackened.

She finished up and used her hand to rub his back and squeeze his shoulder comfortingly.

Because everyone on Atlantis had a different use for them.

But to Rodney, his hands were the most important part of him. Without them working in harmony with the rest of him, he wouldn't be able to do half the things he could.


	64. School

_A/N – Yes, I'm still alive, and, yes, I'm still hurting Rodney. Just at a more leisurely pace than before (that sounded a bit wrong…)_

**_School_**

Rodney had not been doing anything overly dangerous or daring when it happened. He had only been walking with his team beside the large lake. It formed part of a river flowing onwards through the forest they were exploring in the warm sunshine. The sides had been steep and rocky and it had not taken much for Rodney to suddenly lose his footing on the slippery stones and land heavily on his backside. The scanner he had been distracted by had flown up in the air as he fell, and not even the rapid snatches of his team mates could save him as he slid the rest of the way and then went over the edge of the cliff. His fall was brief and his shocked yelp was cut off as he plunged into the icy water.

Now he was struggling towards the surface in his wet and heavy clothes. But the current was strong and he could feel something even more powerful tugging at him and pushing him further down into the crushing and fatal water surrounding him.

He kicked out and opened his eyes in the water. His vision was blurry and the water stung his eyes terribly, but at least now he could see the likely-to-be-fatal, gut twisting terrors that surrounded him. The entire lake was full of small fish; glittering silver in the dull light as they squirmed and swam around Rodney and each other like a rippling mass forming a single organism. They were not only blocking his path, but most of the light filtering through from the surface. Some of them decided he would make a good dinner, and nipped his bare skin where they kept him trapped in the midst of them.

Rodney's stomach and throat muscles burnt where he kept them tensed, and his lungs throbbed and screamed mercilessly at him for oxygen. Very soon, he started to lose the strength in his body and his desperate flailing weakened. He allowed his instincts and adrenaline to guide him and give him the extra energy he needed, but it was not enough.

He grabbed handfuls of the fish and pushed them aside, but they were only replaced by hundreds more and continued to keep him under. Twenty seconds… thirty seconds… he had no idea how long he had struggled. But he knew that he only had a few more precious moments before his diaphragm would disobey and draw in breath, only it would instantly flood his lungs and kill him.

He wondered if drowning would hurt and exactly how much. He knew he was about to find out, even though the primal fear kept him going for far longer than he ever thought he would be able to in such a situation.

It was like claustrophobia, in the dark and suffocating space, but he could not hyperventilate as there was no air, and he was completely trapped and helpless.

He gritted his teeth and shoved as hard as he could, but the choking school was slippery and the eel-like creatures continued to bite and pummel him. It seemed like they knew that they were about to get an easy meal which would be enough for all of them. Perhaps that was why they were ganging up together to drown him?

Something hard suddenly jabbed Rodney in the top of the shoulder, he felt his collar bone snap, but the pain and shock did not fully register. He winced and the water around him became tinted red. This sent the entire school into a frenzy and Rodney looked around in the dimness of his failing sight, and the fish-filled water, to see that it was in fact a stick just above him that had stabbed him. The stick moved round and hit his back. He reached up and grabbed it as tightly as he could, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and the icy numbness spreading through his extremities, dulling the pain to a bearable, but far more terrifying level.

He was vaguely aware of being pulled through the fish. It was a fight, and he could feel them impacting his body as they tried to stop him from getting away, but he closed his eyes and increased his grip.

When he reached the surface, he spluttered and coughed. He gasped in great lungfuls of air and choked when his head went under and he inhaled some.

He was still being dragged through the water and then hands grabbed him and pulled him up through the water, but it was too late and his sight faded to black as he heard a panicked shout of, "Don't do this, Rodney! Stay with us!"

The next thing Rodney knew there was a pressure over the centre of his chest, then his ribs bent down and it _hurt._

He screwed his eyes tightly closed as he was rolled over onto his side and propped up. He promptly expelled everything he had in his lungs and stomach in heaving and painful vomiting; the orientation prevented him from re-inhaling and choking on the horrible water he had taken in in his near drowning. He spat and shuddered at the pain from the liquid in his throat and nose, but the worst pain was in his chest; right down deep, where no amount of even the most heartiest of coughing could reach.

He drew a long, rattling breath into his abused lungs and choked. The next pull of air wheezed and it felt like he was drowning again. Another cough and short bout of weak spewing and hacking got rid of the worst of it, but he kept his eyes screwed tightly shut.

The hands dragged him away from the mess and laid him down on his side. He was soaked and cold. He felt sure and steady hands wrapping a bandage around his bleeding shoulder where the stick had stabbed him and there were stinging angry welts all over his exposed skin. He coughed and grimaced as it tore his throat and he felt the angry and deep throb of pain in his chest and soreness in his stomach.

Words were being spoken, muffled by his water filled ears, and he mumbled incoherently in response. They were soft words and they calmed him, but they could not soothe his sore throat or the pounding of his heart caused by fear of imminent death.

It was not cold on the planet, but he still shivered.

The hands helped him upright and supported him, and he finally opened his eyes. John was looking at him in concern, while Ronon stood nearby at the base of the cliff. Teyla was at the top, keeping a lookout.

Rodney looked up the cliff face and realised that they must have climbed down to reach him, which is why it took so long. It had taken both Ronon and John to pull him out.

John patted Rodney's uninjured shoulder and said, "Okay, swimming lesson's over. I think it's time to go back."

Ronon mumbled, "There's nothing here anyway."

"Unless you like fishing," John added with a shrug.

"We got a good catch," Ronon added with a smirk and patted Rodney on the back, making his breath catch in a choking wheeze.

Teyla rolled her eyes and together they all helped the silent, stunned and rasping-breathed Rodney to scramble back to the top of the cliff and supported him while he stumbled on the way back home for proper medical care.


	65. Innocence

_A/N - So, in an attempt to overcome my sudden debilitating posting phobia (caused in equal measures by three factors: flamers/my inability to accept any criticism, the SGA_Santa, and RL woe), I'm posting my most risqué chapter yet. Um, oops. But remember that all things not as yet revealed by canon are open to interpretation... and here's mine..._

_This is set in late Season 2._

_**Innocence**_

Sheppard led the team along an ornately decorated corridor towards the central chamber where McKay had excitedly announced the energy reading was located.

Rodney was pointing his scanner at each statue in turn, hoping to find secreted ZPMs or power signatures in the heads of the provocatively posed, naked, marble humans. He found himself getting flustered, in both his thrill over what they might find, as well as the arousing forms sightlessly standing as sentries, seemingly neither aware nor ashamed of their nudity. Much to his horror, some of the excitement went straight to his crotch and he felt a very unwelcome throb down there.

He nervously cleared his throat and resolutely stared at the screen of his scanner without glancing up at the figures again in case he embarrassed himself.

The native leading them onwards announced, "Only the most learned and experienced are allowed in the meeting hall."

Rodney lifted his chin up and said to the rest of his team, "You'll all be waiting outside then?"

John tilted his head and Ronon twitched... and was that... a _growl?_ Teyla merely gave the leader a small, long suffering smile.

"The room always knows if you are unworthy," the native insisted.

Rodney started to get a little bit uncomfortable at that ominous statement and the pointed use of the word 'experience.' His mind rapidly jumped through several hoops, as it tended to do at all hours of every day, while he studied a naked marble woman with her finger pointing right at him and beckoning him nearer. He swallowed convulsively with an audible gulp and trotted to catch up with his team.

There were guards holding spears outside the door to meeting hall, and Rodney hung back to examine the first panel in the wall he had seen. John, Teyla and Ronon went in with the leader and Rodney suddenly felt terribly alone and vulnerable as his eyes nervously darted up to see the glistening, sharp points of the weapons. It did not help that the guards were faintly leering at him, and were both Adonis-like giants, complete with epic muscular proportions. It looked like they should be wrestling with tigers, not terrorising comparatively weedy scientists.

Rodney stepped forwards to walk into the room and was promptly shoved backwards by an invisible force blocking the doorframe. He tried again, more swiftly this time, and was knocked right back. He landed heavily on his rump and flattened out onto his back and closed his eyes while he caught his breath and waited for the pain to subside.

When he tried to move and get up, he discovered that there was a pressure over his chest pinning him down. He opened his eyes and squeaked in fright when he saw that both guards had the business ends of their spears angled down at him. One was a little overenthusiastic as he pressed the heavy tip against Rodney until he hardly dared to breathe in case it slipped and gored him to the marble floor where he lay.

The stab-happy guard announced loudly, "We have found a worthy sacrifice!"

The other one turned to his companion and frowned, "I am not so sure, he is quite old."

"Hey!" Rodney said angrily.

"The room never lies, he must be innocent."

"What? If I'm innocent then why are you trying to kill me..." Rodney gabbled. He felt his heart plummet when he realised. "Oh! _That_ kind of innocent... but I'm not! I swear I love women and I've had loads of girlfriends. They all fall over themselves to get to me!"

The pressure of the tip of the spear against Rodney's ribs increased as the guard said, "Evidently they have all fallen over so that none ever reach you."

The guard not poking Rodney with a sharp implement, rapidly spun his weapon over and brought the blunt end back. He then swung it between Rodney's splayed legs and whacked him in the groin. Rodney wailed and rolled over, clutching his abused goods with his eyes screwed tightly closed. The guard harassing him with the sharp end of his spear moved with Rodney and rested the tip against the side of his ribcage just beneath his armpit where he had now moved his arm out of the way and exposed his whole flank.

"What's going on here?" John, Rodney's unlikely saviour, shouted.

The native leader echoed, "Why are you trapping him?"

"He's a worthy sacrifice for later."

"No, I'm not!" Rodney groaned. Even through the pain he felt embarrassed. Shame, along with a deep seated terror, gripped him that his secret was about to be revealed to the rest of his team without any mercy. He would never live it down. An Earth male approaching 40 years of age… still a virgin!? It was unheard of, totally unspeakable and downright humiliating. According to the culture Rodney had left on Earth, every man had been with a woman before he was 20, and if not, then he was deemed to be unworthy and an outcast.

The guard jabbed the point of the spear against the side of Rodney's chest more forcefully. Rodney grunted and winced. "Alright, alright. Just stop hurting me with that pointy stick!"

"Admit it! You are inexperienced and yet you still tried to gain access."

Ronon frowned, "Experience? Do they mean..."

"Sex!" Rodney shouted hysterically, taking John and Teyla by surprise.

John raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "You mean you've never..."

"No." Rodney curled his hand around the tip of the spear and swore that his ribcage was badly broken and he was bleeding out. His remaining ribs creaked under the weight and he grimaced. This was an admission under duress and he would deny everything later of course.

"Not even once?" John pressed.

"For the love of… No! I've never had sex! J-just because you have women lining up round the b-block to 'get busy' doesn't mean that everyone else automatically does. I'm not exactly prince charming, or an expert in the art of wooing women into my bed now, am I?!"

He'd never even had sex with Katie Brown and they'd been going out for quite a while. He took a great deal of care so that he just never got around to it. He fled in panic whenever things even vaguely hinted at going that way with her. He recalled clearing his throat and excusing himself the moment she leant forwards to try and kiss him.

He realised that it was because he was afraid. Allowing himself to get close was one thing, but to go all the way would open him up to break completely, and leave him utterly defenceless. He always prided himself with being stubborn and aggressively keeping everyone at arm's length. To do such a thing was beyond him. In a few years maybe, once he felt secure confident that no-one was going to abandon him and send him back to Siberia to be cold and alone.

John whistled, "Tough break."

Rodney said hotly, "Yes, thank you so much for reminding me. But we can't all have perfect hair, and be muscular supermodels and hunks, lusted after by every woman in the universe now, can we?"

Ronon grunted, "Can if you work out enough." He then started studying his rippling biceps.

Teyla's face was sad and she said, "It is alright Rodney. We do not think any less of you."

"We _don't_?" John asked incredulously.

"Please. It hurts," Rodney said in a quivering voice as the spear remained against him painfully.

He knew this was the reaction he would get and that this whole affair was going to ruin his friendships with the rest of his team. They would never speak to him again after this! He hung his head down and gritted his teeth against the pain, both physical and emotional, assaulting him. He was such an unmanly and lonely geek. He knew for sure that he would be forced back to being on his own after this, just like he had been before coming to Atlantis. His incredibly cautious relationship building had been for nothing. He had spent nearly two years cultivating them too! He had let people into his life bit by bit as he gained confidence that they weren't going to ignore him when he was no longer useful.

But now his heart was slowly breaking as he lay there on the cold, hard floor. His team clearly thought nothing of him anymore, because they allowed the guard to continue his slow torture with the sharp spear.

They were all too shocked to notice and act on the spear crushing his ribs and he winced as a tear ran across his cheek and mumbled, "Hello? Can't breathe here. In pain"

They continued to ignore the fact that the guards were trying to kill him and the level of hurt that he suffered, he felt that it was a punishment and was even beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, he _deserved_ it for not conforming to the social rules, so he ground his teeth together and bore it in silent agony.

John raised his eyebrows at Rodney. "No wonder you're so twitchy and nervous around women! You sure kept that secret well hidden."

Rodney said, "Hmm, and based on this predictable reaction can you blame me or wonder why?" Rodney blinked slowly and looked at the native leader. "So being a virgin makes me worthless here? That's reassuring of the level of intelligence wielded by the planet's populace."

The guard not stabbing Rodney brutally kicked his hip so that he flopped down onto his back and then proceeded to viciously stamp on him, right in between his legs. Rodney screamed and convulsed, and that finally galvanized his team into action.

Rodney tried to be manly about it and not to cry and prove them all right, but it hurt so terribly that he couldn't stifle or prevent his outburst. Hot tears flowed down his face as he clutched himself and whimpered.

"Let him go!" John shouted.

The guard pushed a little and the tip of the spear sunk into Rodney's vest. He murmured, but the excruciating level of pain was making him weaker and driving him towards unconsciousness. He longed to be stunned so that the awful pain would just go away.

Above the roar of blood past his ears, he heard one of the guards ask, "You mean, you actually _want_ him back? But he has never even been with a woman and he is so worthless and old."

"He is not worthless to us," Teyla said angrily.

Ronon frowned, "You mean you kill people who haven't…?"

The native leader said, "Why not? It saves resources and is an incentive for our population to increase. People who are unwilling or unable to multiply are a useless drain and are only worthy for sacrifice. Most go gladly."

"I wonder why…" Rodney mumbled sadly.

John nodded, "Alright. But we want him back. He may be a virgin, but he's _our_ virgin!"

There was a scuffle and three blaster sounds later the guards and the leader were lying in a heap. John knelt down as Rodney continued to whimper pitifully and hold onto himself between the legs. Rodney breathed, "Is it all still there?" as he lifted his shaking hands away where they had been clasped in his nether regions.

John narrowed his eyes as they tracked downwards and then he looked up into Rodney's pained face. "You weren't exactly using it, but it's intact as far as I can tell." John furrowed his brow and said, "We'll soon have you back on Atlantis. I'm sure Beckett can fix it all up, no matter who you're saving it for."

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the guards where Ronon and Teyla stood over them warily. Rodney's eyes glanced fearfully at the spears on the floor nearby and he espied a red tip on one of them, glinting in the light. His heart pounded and a cold sweat broke out on his face. He muttered, "Oh... blood…" and promptly passed out.

-----------------

Rodney half expected to wake up strapped down to a table with a crazy native hovering over him with a wicked curved blade for sacrifice, where his team had decided to abandon him for being so unmanly after all.

But when he came to, he could feel bandages wrapped around his upper body where he lay on a soft bed in the infirmary and IV lines fed him painkillers. The warmth spread through his veins and numbed the throbbing pain in his groin and chest. He was surprised to find his team sitting around him. Instead of them looking down their noses at him, they seemed to care about him just like they always had done; concerned about him as his friends. John even seemed to look at him in respect, but Rodney may just be imagining it in his injured and drug addled state. Perhaps nothing had changed after all?

When Carson came over, John asked, "So, how's he doing, doc?"

Carson sighed and said, "Well, he's badly bruised and might have trouble walking for a while. His pelvis was also damaged, and there's that chest injury too."

Rodney sighed and grimaced.

Carson shooed the others away and drew the privacy curtain around. After a few questions and a brief examination he covered Rodney with the sheet once more and said solemnly, "It will take some time, but your little man and his friends are going to be just fine."

Rodney sunk down into the bed as he exhaled an enormous breath in relief.

Carson placed his hand on Rodney's shoulder and asked, "What happened to you on the planet? Do I need to insist that you visit Heightmeyer?"

"You mean Sheppard didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He really didn't!" Rodney felt a warm fuzzy glow of gratitude towards John, and the rest of his team too.

But Carson kept pressing; "Now I'm intrigued. Spit it out."

Rodney's eyes darted about and he grimaced, "Oh, nothing! Well, if we're done here…"

"Aye." Carson increased the pressure of his grip on Rodney and then released him. He drew back the curtain and Rodney's team gathered around him again in silent support, almost like an honour guard, and he felt a bubble of happiness inside.

They each maintained physical contact. John held Rodney's arm, Teyla had a hand in his hair and Ronon rested one hand on his lower leg.

He fell asleep like that, as he relaxed into their comforting touch and the good drugs wended their way through his system, numbing all pain in their wake.


	66. Christmas

_A/N – Have a good one all! More Xmas fun for the Rodney :)_

**_Christmas_**

Rodney woke up in a strange place, on a strange and unfamiliar bed, on Christmas Day in the morning. The material was scratchy and thin against the bare skin of his arms where he lay… _fully clothed? Hunh? What's going on?_

He opened his eyes and got a face full of dreadlocks, his mind immediately firing into full-on panic mode. "No no no no no no!" He whispered as he gently poked Ronon's shoulder to try and shift his slumbering Satedan bunk-buddy out of his personal space.

Ronon growled, and faster than Rodney could ever hope to move so soon after waking, Ronon rolled over and grabbed Rodney's wrist, using his other fist to deliver a sharp jab into Rodney's unprotected stomach. All the breath was knocked out of Rodney, rendering him helplessly gasping for air.

Ronon's eyes suddenly cleared and he let go with a mumbled, "Oh! Sorry, McKay. Thought you were… anyway."

"S'okay," Rodney wheezed, wrapping his forearms against his midsection.

There was a female murmur nearby and a low moan. Rodney furrowed his brow in confusion and attempted to sit up, only to be laid out by a stab of pain in his forehead. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, the more intense pain calling his hands' attention away from his abused solar plexus.

Rodney mumbled, "What happened last night? That must've been a hell of a party."

He looked around the room blearily and discovered that upon inspection, he had actually ended up in Teyla's quarters. The owner of the room was drooling where she lay on the floor on some cushions. John still had a sad looking party hat on his head where he was draped over Teyla's couch. Both were stirring with equal distress as Rodney had just felt.

Ronon had slipped off the bed while Rodney was distracted and came back with a glass in his hand, containing something pink and slimy and quite nasty looking.

Rodney gagged as Ronon tilted the glass up and drank some. "Oh, that's too disgusting! What is it?"

"Cure for the day-after sickness."

"I think I'll just pop a couple of Tylenol and sleep through the rest of the day, thanks," Rodney said as he turned his face away from what was obviously the entrails of some helpless creature Ronon had gutted especially for the occasion.

Teyla drank some, and even John did too, but Rodney saw Sheppard's face twitch in revulsion for a fraction of a second before he grinned lopsidedly back at Rodney.

Rodney stayed flat on his back and closed his eyes again, "That's gross."

"You cannot sleep today, Rodney," Teyla said, looking annoyingly bright-eyed after Ronon's dead-thing cocktail.

"Not on Christmas Day," Sheppard said.

Ronon grabbed Rodney's hand and pulled him off the bed. Fortunately the glass had vanished and Rodney hastily excused himself and staggered back to his quarters, alternating rubbing at his temples and sore belly with his hands.

* * *

Christmas Lunch was always a raucous affair on Atlantis. Party Poppers exploding, streamers and tinsel, music, alcohol and raised voices being the usual fair, almost making the food secondary to the festivities around. Rodney had once again been successfully dragged from his lab to attend. Although he had not needed too much coaxing at the promise of huge amounts of turkey dinner, Christmas pudding and mince pies to consume.

He was still in pain from the hangover, and had since discovered that the whole thing was Zelenka's fault. He would have to track down the secret lab being used to concoct what was now being called 'The Train,' in that everyone had been completely flattened by it the night before. Zelenka was beaming, the little sneak, but Rodney would find a way to put an end to that as soon as he could walk in a straight line again... Rodney had no memory of anything after leaving the Mess Hall last night. The punch in the gut hadn't helped to ease his discomfort too much, but his skin was unblemished. It hurt when he prodded the area, but wasn't getting any worse and the painkillers were knocking it on the head.

Ronon fiddled with the empty kitchen knife block Rodney had given him. He pulled a couple of knives from his hair and slotted them in place with a big grin. "Cool."

Teyla had already tied her hair back with the Ancient hair-tie Rodney had found and fixed. At least that's what he thought the device was, but it worked all the same to shrink and grow around whatever was placed within the band.

John's gift from Rodney was more of a novelty, but he was still pleased with it. Rodney was glad as he'd spent hours of his free time adjusting and modifying the Wraith Stunner to do _that._

_BANG!_

Rodney jumped in fright and then laughed nervously with everyone else when he realised that no-one was trying to make holes in his body with bullets this time, and that it was in fact just John firing another blast at the ceiling from the Festive Stunner. The energy popped into a miniature flower-shaped firework bloom. Dropping sparkles of glowing light on all the party goers.

Rodney looked across at John's plate and noticed he'd left his sprouts. Rodney pointed at them with his fork and asked, "You eating those?"

"No way!"

Rodney widened his eyes in a question and John sighed and pushed his plate away towards Rodney. "Go ahead. I don't know why you like the horrible little things so much."

Teyla frowned between them, "I do not understand how a vegetable could have gained such notoriety for this festival."

"Just... yuck," John eloquently enthused.

Rodney finished them off, chewing contentedly and glanced at both Teyla and Ronon's empty plates. "You like them then?"

"Of course," Teyla said with a smile.

Ronon grunted, "They're okay."

Rodney smirked, "That's not very convincing coming from someone who'll eat anything, even dead-animal cocktails to cure a hangover."

"It's food. So I eat it."

"Oh, that's enlightening."

The others smiled back at him and Rodney leant back. The food and drink had eased his headache and he forgot for a moment about the bruising and patted his full belly. He winced and merely rested his hand on himself and smiled at the people around him. For the first time in his life they were willing to include him in the festivities and to actually _want_ his company.

Things were good.

Dessert was still to come…

Things were _great!_


	67. Black

_A/N – now for another dose of pure plotless Rodney whumping... he's so pretty when he's in pain! Uhm..._

_**Black**_

_Water giveth life, but it also taketh away…_

Rodney snorted at the irony of the words and then winced as pain ran up his leg into his hip. It went shivering through his groin and around his whole pelvis, leaving him breathless and hyperventilating in the dark.

He felt cold as icy liquid rose under him where he was lying on his back. He was unsure whether his leg was actually trapped or just plain broken, but every attempt to move ended the same way, in shooting pains like red-hot pokers which made him wish he was unconscious.

Even the cold water could not numb it and he gasped. His radio was missing and the last thing he remembered was walking along through what looked like a ruin of an abandoned monastery. The ground must have given way, because when he came to, it was completely dark and he was in a great deal of pain. There was a steady pattering and dripping sound.

In the black of the hole wherein he was trapped all alone and hurting, was he dying? If he didn't die, would he lose his leg? Would he ever walk again? The void pressed in around him making the horrors of his morbid thoughts all the more fearful, and he could smell earth and something like metal. He managed to retrieve a torch from his vest which barely pierced the darkness before it faded away entirely after he fumbled and dropped it from his numb, slippery hands, either that or his eyes were fading. He had just had enough time to see that he was bleeding out from a deep laceration across his upper right leg and the blood-tinged water looked almost black as it lapped around him. He could feel weakness coursing through his veins from the blood loss and shock, trying to drag him under into the pitch black and painless place. But he fought and won for the moment, staying awake only to endure more agony.

He was drenched and any thoughts to move or escape and find out more about where he was were quickly silenced by the pain whenever he tried. Leaving him seeing points of light in the darkness.

The water was rising at an alarming rate and had already reached mid-shoulder height when he started panicking about the depth where he still lay out flat and pinned down on his back.

He moved his shaking hands and tested each side of his pelvis with a careful press with his trembling fingers. Blood rushed past his ears and the internal torrent drowned out the sound of the water flow for a while when he felt a heavy immobile structure resting mainly on his right upper leg.

He tried to sit up and at least get his upper body out of the water to buy more time for the others to rescue him.

Although they did not seem to be hurrying as he had been down there forever.

That effort ended in a loud echoing shout and splash as he fell back into the water again with a choking splutter as his motion caused a wave to wash over and smother his face.

The water he swallowed tasted bitter and metallic with what he knew was his blood. He gagged, but held back the vomit as he could not move to avoid it choking him before the water reached his nose and mouth.

He started to panic when he realised he was going to die. Water had already tried to kill him in the Puddle Jumper, _had_ killed him in another reality and now it would finally have its revenge for his avoidance of its deadly ripples and desire to claim him in death. The pitch black pressing in around him only sealed his fate all the more, making his claustrophobia spike and his heart clench.

"Help!" He cried weakly. "I'm bleeding… and drowning!" his voice supplied, weaker still and trembling in fear.

He wished he was a fish and had gills, or the strength and resolve of a man like Ronon to scream in exertion and pull himself free.

The water topped his chest and tickled his chin as it covered his ears to muffle the sounds of his last terrified moments. His rapid breaths were loud in his head as they were all he could hear.

The water covered Rodney's face and he closed his eyes, his breath held until his throat ached and his lungs felt like they would burst. No one was coming for him and even if they were, he could not hold his breath indefinitely while they thought about it. Just as he floated away into the calm depths of unconsciousness and he pondered giving up and drawing a breath of liquid, the weight over his leg vanished and gentle, yet strong, hands under his arms lifted him up from what he had been sure was about to become his watery grave.

He passed out.

* * *

The moment McKay vanished beneath the ground, and when it became clear that he was hurt… or worse, as he didn't answer his radio, John left Teyla and Ronon behind to sprint to the gate. He entrusted Ronon to carefully climb down and see if he could find out what happened to McKay.

Ronon used his feet on either side of the uneven tunnel to carefully climb down. The small space didn't hinder or slow him. He found Rodney sprawled out and trapped on his back in a larger area at the bottom of the hole. There was water and it was just about to cover his face. Ronon jumped down and pulled the log free and heaved Rodney's upper body up out of the water, moving the log round to rest McKay's back against it so that he could be propped up. Rodney tensed and then became unresponsive. Ronon looked along the stricken man and saw that his leg was heavily bleeding, visible even through the sodden material of his uniform. The log had torn a deep gash in the material and in the pale skin underneath. Rodney's leg was also broken by the way it bent unnaturally.

Ronon tested Rodney's chest with his hands, unzipping the tight tac vest and running them firmly along Rodney's ribcage.

When nothing shifted and Rodney's breathing didn't falter, other than by the hurt he was already enduring from the leg injury, Ronon deemed that his ribs where intact, so knew that a shot of morphine to ease the pain would be better than making him suffer more than was necessary. Which was a good thing as Rodney was starting to wake up again in a series of low moans and semi-conscious whimpers. He scrunched up his face and scrabbled at the log he was resting against with his hands. Ronon recognised it as a pain response and a desperate attempt to find an outlet for it.

Ronon gave Rodney the injection and the moment Rodney's face smoothed out and he fell asleep, Ronon found a stick nearby, splinted and wrapped the offending limb using the bandages John and Teyla had given him.

He grabbed the stretcher lowered down a few minutes later from the waiting medical team and Puddle Jumper now overhead. It was roped in each corner so that it would remain stable and flat once it had a load.

"You okay down there?" John called out.

"The water's rising. McKay's upper leg is broken. He's bleeding."

Ronon recognised Carson's voice next, he at least had the sense and calmness to speak over the radio. "Try not to jostle him too much as you load him on the stretcher."

With that, Ronon relinquished Rodney's care to the medical and rescue teams, he waited for the second rope to be lowered, making certain that McKay was seen to first before they even considered retrieving him from the small dark and damp chute he had fallen into.


	68. Ends

_A/N – Happy New Year all! Now for a 'Be All My Sins Remember'd' tag. How odd._

_**Ends**_

There is something cold, sterile, bloodless and almost _clean_ about dying in a space battle. Ships are destroyed, thousands die in explosions or the vacuum. Some bodies get left behind to drift forever in the icy void, never claimed or buried. A cruel fate, even for enemies.

The Wraith and Asurans took longer to die due to their healing powers and lack of organic material respectively. But they had chosen to be in space and to fight and face such a destiny. Snuffed out in an instant.

Hundreds instantly dead in a single burst of flame.

Rodney was a killer. He knew that. He caused all these deaths himself, even indirectly, it was all his fault.

He had killed Fran as easily as he had created her, without feeling or remorse. But now she haunted his dreams, along with a billion Asuran Replicators, which looked, acted and talked so similarly to humans he found it hard to distinguish them at times.

It was easy for him to start to doubt himself in the dead of the night, when all he had as he lay in bed, in the fragile state of mind between wakefulness and the dreams, were the endless thoughts and recriminations. Guilt flared in his heart and stripped away the ability to sleep, like his many layers of defence were nothing more than sheets of tissue-paper protecting him against a razor-sharp knife. But then, did murderers need or even _deserve_ to have any sleep to still the screaming guilt in their conscience over what they had done?

Had Rodney's actions alone killed billions of souls? Was his spirit now blemished with genocide? Would he be judged as a murderer or a monster by those who read his tale?

Sure, they had won the fight, real humans were now as safe as before. But he had changed the code, he had caused the machines to kill _real_ people. And to him it felt as though he had been there and struck the killing blow against each and every one with his own hand.

He was responsible for thousands of deaths, the blood of countless innocents stained his soul and drenched his hands and body.

Rodney turned over in bed, mumbling and murmuring, the sheets twisting tighter around his legs with each unsound toss his semi-conscious body and sleep weakened mind made him perform to try in vain to shake off the ghosts which clung to him and crushed him to the point of suffocation every night. Rodney struggled to sleep a single restful night. He hadn't slept properly since it happened.

No-one would listen to him during the day when he spoke of the moral implications of creating a being such as Fran to be used in the way he had. When he was awake and had tried to talk to people about his guilt, they dismissed him, which only made him feel so much worse. Whenever he brought it up, the rest of his team would congratulate him, even when he protested that he now felt debilitating guilt from his actions, and still couldn't sleep or concentrate.

When Rodney got irate after the hundredth pat on the back, Sheppard's smirk faded. His face dropped in seriousness as he said, "It's war, McKay, and in the end we won. That's all that matters. No more human worlds with real flesh and blood people have been destroyed since. Think about that and try to stop beating yourself up over chunks of metal robot. They may look like humans, but underneath they're just machines."

But that was not the only thing on Rodney's mind. The Replicators had killed real humans. Their programming unfettered to do so by one Dr Rodney McKay.

* * *

Rodney's problems only got worse, to such a point that his sleeping trouble meant that he overslept one day. The first time ever. He didn't wake up at the radio call or the door chime. He only woke up when firm hands grasped his shoulders and shook him gently.

He cried in fright, "No, please stop! I know I killed them all!" He then shifted unsoundly until the bed covers around his upper body pulled tight and prevented him from hyperventilating in horror, in fact, prevented any breath at all from entering his lungs. His nightmare and fears were laid bare in his vulnerable sleepy state to whoever it was who had grabbed him.

John loosened the sheets from Rodney's chest and he inhaled quickly in panic. The steady grip returned to his shoulders and John said, "Rodney, buddy, it's okay. I'm here, try to calm down."

It wouldn't do to have him, the scourge of the Lantean Labs, seen as a gibbering wreck. So Rodney sniffled and said hoarsely, "All the things I've done. All the people I've killed, even indirectly, I'm responsible for countless deaths."

Rodney's mask fell into place as he woke up and the nightmare faded. He began to feel his cheeks reddening in an embarrassed blush under John's scrutiny. He cleared his throat and looked away nervously as he said, "Uh, I'm up now, Sheppard, you can go."

John kept on staring at him intensely so Rodney said sarcastically, "Unless you _want_ to watch me shower and dress?"

Rodney huffed and John backed down with a swift retort, "No amount of therapy in the world would help me recover from that."

"Gee, thanks(!)"

John turned his back. While he heard Rodney scrambling out of bed behind him, he studied the certificates on the wall of Rodney's quarters and asked offhand, "Have you spoken to Heightmeyer about this?"

Rodney scoffed, "Shrink. Why would I want to tell _her_ my innermost secrets?"

"I don't know," John drawled, raising an eyebrow at a picture of McKay gurning back at him out of the picture frame. "Maybe she could teach you a new way to yell at your science teams that actually makes you feel better. Or prescribe a session of heavy metal therapy to ease the tension. You sure have been cranky lately. Even by your standards."

"I'm _not_ speaking with her about this. I'm fine."

"Clearly not. Don't make me order you to go."

Rodney grumbled, "I'm a civilian, you can't make me do anything."

John turned around and was not too surprised when he was met by a very indignant looking McKay who had his arms folded stubbornly across himself. The effect only slightly ruined by the fact that Rodney was still in his rumpled pyjamas, with his hair sticking up at angles that would've puzzled even the most brilliant mathematicians and also made John jealous. John sighed and said, "No. But I _can_ ground you."

Rodney's mouth opened on cue and his eyes widened in shock. "You _wouldn't!"_

"I would."

Rodney pressed his lips together in a firm, but crooked line. He then looked away and his defiant expression fell when something akin to sadness and resignation flitted across the surface of his expressive face. "Alright." He then glared up at John again, his indignant pout firmly back in place, "But if anyone asks, we're dating."

John quirked his eyebrows.

"Heightmeyer and myself, I mean," Rodney gabbled with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Good enough for me." John nodded as Rodney glared at him in a very unsubtle hint that he had way outstayed his welcome. John nodded and left, satisfied that Rodney would get help to end his downward spiral, or so help him, he'd drag the hot-headed scientist to see Heightmeyer by the scruff of his neck if it came to that.


	69. Green

_A/N - More tag, more tag… 'The Game' this time._

_**Green**_

"So, am _I_ challenging enough for you?" John asked Rodney with an annoying smirk as he moved a bishop across the chess board and eliminated yet another of the few pieces Rodney had left.

"Well, it's not as fun as the game we've been playing with that planet."

"You're just saying that because you're losing."

"No."

"And because you can't cheat at _this_ game."

"Hey!"

"You're not… _jealous_, are you?" John drawled. "The Great Rodney McKay, never bested by anyone before, until a lowly military man came along."

"Are you trying to make me hit you?" Rodney asked with his eyes flashing dangerously.

John leant back in his chair and looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much. "No, I'm just saying…"

"Yes, that you're winning. I think I got that."

Rodney moved his piece and thumped it down on the board with a low growl, wobbling the table and nearly knocking over some of the other pieces.

John pondered his next move, tapping his chin with one finger as he pretended to think deeply.

Rodney glared at him and asked, "Why is it called an intellectual's game? It's about as intellectual as, say, tennis."

"There you go again with the envy."

"What? No!" Rodney spluttered. But he could feel his heart pounding in fury and he started to feel sick.

"Your face, McKay. You feeling alright?" John still had that infuriating smirk plastered on his face as he fought his way past Rodney's useless defence on the board. "You look a little green around the edges."

Rodney ground his teeth in annoyance and moved a piece without really thinking about it.

Zelenka took the opportunity to radio him at that moment. Rodney listened carefully, spending the whole time glaring at Sheppard's smug face. He muttered, "Check the recalibration of the thermodynamic water flow regulators before putting the modifications online. Then give it a try. I'll be down later. I have something I need to do first."

John grinned at him and moved his piece. He waved his hand at the board. "Checkmate."

"What? No! Hey, that's not fair! I was distracted!

Sheppard shrugged, "I think I won a while ago, but it's fun to watch you flounder."

"Wow, that's really so nice of you, Sheppard," Rodney said hotly. "You like to see me lose. Let's see how happy you are when the Wraith next show up and I'm the one left to save everyone."

"No, that's something you know how to win. So I'll leave that to you."

"And I'll leave the military tactics to you."

John picked up one of Rodney's defeated pawns and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger absently as he asked, "Another game?"


	70. Summer

_**Summer**_

Rodney lay spread out flat on his back on the beach and let the sun warm his bare skin. He frowned as he did not seem to be anything between him and the sand. He always avoided beaches at all costs to prevent the tiny grains working their way into places he would really rather they didn't.

Also, why was he sunbathing anyway? He hated the sun as it burned him and hurt. Turning his skin bright red and making any movement sore.

He opened his eyes and glanced up into the sky. The sun was hot, but not unpleasantly so. It was just enough to warm him through, but not to burn. He frowned again in confusion as he discovered he could look right at the sun without it blinding him.

Even on an alien world, the sun would never be so dull that he could look right at it and still be able to see. Could it?

He looked down at himself. He was wearing nothing but swimming trunks, but he knew he wasn't on holiday. He looked around the beach and saw waves crashing on the shore nearby, but there was no sound. It was like the volume and light of the world around him had been muted.

"Okay…" He muttered, the sound of his voice loud in the eerie silence.

He turned and asked the sky, "How did I get here?" But there was no answer and his mind drew a blank when he delved down to try and find his most recent memories.

Very gradually Rodney's skin started to smart and tingle and he noticed too late that it was gradually getting hotter. He tried to move and get up to find some shade, but to his horror he found that couldn't lift his limbs.

Panic started to grip him as the smarting turned into the beginnings of pain.

* * *

The hallucination Rodney's mind created to shield him quickly faded away until he was plunged in the very depths of hell itself. The terrifying smell of his own roasting flesh met his nose within the smoke and heat, and he screamed. His voice rasped and he choked as he gulped in lungful after lungful of burning ash and felt the pain travel down his windpipe and right into his chest.

He used his muscles to desperately twist himself upwards as far as he could away from the flames to stop his body from sagging down so close to the eager and hungry licking of the fire reaching up to touch him. Something blocked his movement, and then he realised that he was tied to a sturdy pole running down his back.

His arms and legs were pulled out almost as far as they could go where they were bound to either end of the blocks supported the pole and also to the pole itself. He was being roasted alive on a spit like an animal!

_A nice even bake, _he thought in between the gasping and screaming sounds in his ears which were far louder than the crackle of the embers reaching up to him from below.

There was a strong acrid smell of burning hair and his eyebrows were toast, his clothes were mostly missing, either stripped off or burnt through.

He knew that he couldn't go on for much longer, especially in the last smell of his own burnt flesh and melting skin before his nose was too singed to register anything else. This was infinitely worse than any sun damage his body had ever sustained and far more painful.

He just wished that the cannibal natives could at least have had the courteously to knock him out, or better still, _kill_ him first, before they burnt him at the stake in insufferable agony and terror. He ground his teeth and tasted the metal in his mouth. His throat was charred and parched and it was getting so difficult to breathe. If only the natives would either release him or have the mercy to either release him or quickly put him out of his misery with a nice blow or projectile to his head or heart.

He screwed his eyes tightly closed and wheezed through his damaged airway. As he coughed, he spat bloody plasma and black saliva from his mouth which landed with a faint hiss in the torturing fire. But it was nowhere near enough liquid to put it out and he'd rather save his blood for other more useful things, like, say, keeping him alive.

Suddenly someone chucked water over the fire and ashes billowed out as well as up. They stuck to his wounds and went in his eyes, but he didn't notice any change in the feel of his injuries as they ran full of plasma and dripped down. They were still at the constant level of excruciating and he was in by far the worst pain he could ever have even imagined.

Rodney's skin blistered, burned and melted and he screamed out in ash and smoke as it filled his lungs and scorched his throat.

_This is worse than hell… please, please, just let me die…_

* * *

_Thwip… plop._

_Thwip… plop._

Rodney woke from his nightmare with a start and realised that he was out on the pier with Sheppard. He was dozing in a deckchair under the warm sun, with a tablet computer in his lap, while Sheppard played golf nearby. Or more accurately, whacked golf balls as far as he could out into the ocean.

There was a rapid swish followed by a hollow ping and he glanced over at the source of the sound to see John poised with his golf club high in the air as he watched the golf ball plop into the ocean a distance away. John turned to Rodney and furrowed his brow, "Still having nightmares about Infaros?"

"They _did_ try to cook and eat me!" Rodney replied gruffly with a wince as he prodded at the burn-bandages around his middle, arms and legs. He wrinkled his nose where he was still wearing the cannula tubing underneath and hooked over his ears to provide him with oxygen treatment while his lungs slowly healed. He stopped tugging when he threatened to topple the tank he still had to drag around with him where it sat nearby.

"Yes, but the fire had only been lit for about a second before we put it out!"

"Long enough," Rodney replied hoarsely with a grimace.

John held up his hand and the balls he had just hit came flying back like homing pigeons. "By the way, thanks for making these."

Rodney settled against the chair and looked up at the tranquil sky. His voice gradually got clearer as he spoke, "I found them in one of the labs. It didn't take long to fix them up. It seems that the Ancients must've played it too. And were also too lazy to retrieve their golf balls."

John smiled at him and came over. He checked the oxygen tank and moved it slightly so that Rodney was no longer in danger of upsetting it. While he did that, he avoided Rodney's eyes when he said, "I'm glad you weren't burnt too badly. Keller said you'll heal up with minimal scarring." John looked up into Rodney's face. "Although those eyebrows are quite amusing."

"Yes hilarious, I'm sure." But Rodney's nightmares had always had a way of showing him the worst case scenario, continuing until he was a burnt out husk, still alive and in terrible pain. As it was, his team got to him in time, and he only had some minor burns. They were all over his body and he had some nasty lung damage still in need of more time to heal from smoke and heat inhalation, but his injuries were nowhere near as bad as they could've been. Or as his nightmares liked to show him.


	71. Sixth Sense

_**Sixth Sense**_

"How the hell did you know it was coming!?" Rodney hissed, as Ronon gripped the scientist's sweaty hand tighter.

They were staggering back to the gate, Ronon supporting the flagging Rodney who had his arm draped over the taller man's shoulders awkwardly due to the height difference.

Rodney was limping where there was a well wrapped and bandaged arrow shaft protruding from the back of his lower right leg. It had been snapped off as close to his leg as possible, but was still jostling unpleasantly with every step and soaking the bandages red.

The injured man winced and shuddered as he put too much weight on the wounded limb. He hobbled forward and gasped out incredulously, "It's impossible! I've never seen anyone move that fast."

Ronon grinned at him and then his face fell. Rodney's eyes were watering, he just couldn't help it, and Ronon had just seen it. Ronon said, "I just knew it was coming and dodged out of the way."

"So I got hit instead! While I was studying my computer screen, I might add, and _relying_ on your protection. That makes me feel _so_ much better!"

Rodney was panting from exertion as they got nearer to the gate with each faltering step in their bizarre three-legged hop-shuffle.

Earlier, Ronon had been too far from Rodney to shove him out of harm's way. So instead, the moment Rodney had been hit by the projectile and fallen down, Ronon had quickly dispatched of all the natives with his blaster. Set on stun of course. Although it had been tempting.

Teyla and Sheppard had already radioed in that they were back at the gate and guarding it.

"No-one moves that fast," Rodney whined. "Unless your senses are honed to supernatural perfection." Rodney searched Ronon's face and then winced as he accidentally placed the foot attached to his bad leg down again for another step.

"Innate," Ronon grunted as he hefted Rodney's arm up higher and they kept plodding onwards. "Seven years on the run. I wouldn't be here now if I didn't have it."

Rodney huffed. "So you moved out of the flight path of the arrow (why is it always arrows with these people!) and I got stuck with it. Great."

"Would you rather it'd me who'd been shot and you taking them all out?"

Sweat rolled down Rodney's face as he looked away and mumbled, "Not really."

Neither of them had the breath or the strength to say any more and they soon got close enough to the gate for Sheppard and Teyla to see them and come rushing over. They helped Ronon to support the injured McKay on his way back home.


	72. Human

_A/N - The fifth and final 'Writer's Choice' is actually a story written for **linziday** in the LiveJournal community **sga_genrequest.** 'Human' is the short title, but the full one is actually:-_

**_Dr Rodney McKay: Hero, Explorer, Genius… Human_**

The room was incredible inside. Just as bright and colourful and terrifying as the Elders had warned. Sure, the door had now slammed shut, but the spectacle more than made up for it.

Ozel-Ta waited and waited and soon the lights inside the small room lost the wonder they held and he started to worry. He tried the door without any luck. He was already thirsty from the long trek he had made to get there.

How was he going to get out? Most of the other villagers were afraid of the room. Now he knew why.

As he was on the verge of losing all hope, the door suddenly opened and a man stepped inside. Before the newcomer could say anything, he spun around in time to see the door slam shut again as he reached out to it. He lowered his arm and stepped back quickly with a huff. "Great. Completely useless as usual."

The man's clothes were unfamiliar as he turned around and looked at Ozel-Ta briefly.

He was probably an offworlder, but somehow Ozel-Ta didn't feel threatened by him. In fact, he was set at ease by the control the man seemed to have over everything. Calm radiated from him, he wasn't panicking or worrying about the dazzling lights all around them or how they were now _both_ trapped. It was almost as though he was bored, or had seen it all before, even in the astounding beauty with equal terror.

The man reached up and touched his ear, "Sheppard? Ronon? Teyla?"

Ozel-Ta frowned in confusion.

The man began to speak, seemingly without consulting his mind before the words came out. "Rescuing munchkins while the rest of my team bask outside in the sunshine, that's _really_ what I signed up for!" All the while he tapped one finger on the strange flat light he held pointed towards his face. "Not that I want to get burnt. No no no, my skin could probably do with a break from the UV rays of death out there."

He suddenly turned and spoke to Ozel-Ta directly, as though seeing him for the first time, "What are you - seven, eight?"

"I am fourteen cycles."

"Guess the years are shorter here," the man muttered.

Ozel-Ta had a certain sense of safety now that the other man was here. He couldn't explain it, but the stranger made him feel as though everything was under control and he needn't be afraid of anything, just as long as he stayed in his presence.

"Do you have a name?"

"Ozel-Ta."

"Hmm, sounds Klingon."

"Cling on? What do you mean?"

The man did not offer his name, which Ozel-Ta found rather rude. Instead he kept talking, all the while tap-tap-tapping away on that flat light of his. "It's a fictional race who are unfamiliar with vowels, and like words that make them spit a lot."

Ozel-Ta found that even more insulting, but the man did not seem to realise… or care.

As the man moved to the panel next to the door, his face altered almost imperceptibly - not in panic or doubt, or even in awe of the display, but with a certain tightening around the eyes while his mouth turned down further.

Ozel-Ta moved towards him and studied him more closely. "Are you ill at ease?"

The man scowled back at him and then shifted with a very obvious wince.

"Where are you injured? I can take you to our healer if you are able to free us." Ozel-Ta frowned and furrowed his brow, "Although they will probably not be best pleased that I required rescue."

The man sighed and transferred his weight between his feet as he continued typing on the strange lighting device he held. The display of colours in the room suddenly went out and he cried in triumph, "Ah ha! That got it!"

Ozel-Ta couldn't help but smile at his outburst, a little of the joy infecting him also.

The man waved one of his hands around at the room they were in. "As fun as that was, I think it's time we got out of here."

Ozel-Ta flinched as something landed on his face. He reached up and wiped his cheek and found that it was damp. Rubbing his fingers together with the liquid, he brought his hand down, and when he looked, he started. "Blood!" He turned and glared accusingly at the man with him. "You lied! You _are_ hurt!"

"It's nothing."

"Where?"

The man very reluctantly held out his left hand and looked down at his arm. It had not been obvious before, but his sleeve was slashed and damp to the point of dripping with blood.

Ozel-Ta peeled back the material and frowned at the long, ugly laceration and watched as more blood ran from the wound and down the forearm of his rescuer.

"You must stop and lie down. Do you have anything I can use to bind your arm?"

"I'm okay standing here. Thanks." But his words were not true as he swayed slightly and blood dripped down to the floor from his cuff.

The man pulled a strip of material from one of the many pockets in the strange vest he wore.

"At least sit down, or you may fall and be further injured."

"No no. It's not that bad."

But he still passed the cloth to Ozel-Ta, who took it and deftly wrapped it around the proffered arm.

The man hissed and shivered once, but then made no further sounds. "Careful there, kiddo, I need that for rescuing more helpless (or most of the time just useless) people."

Ozel-Ta pulled the bandage tight, it was necessary, but also partly in payback for that ill thought comment.

The man really did flinch at that and whispered, "Ow," softly.

He carried on using his arm though despite the blood with only an occasional quiet hiss. If he was in a lot of pain, he didn't really show it. The door soon slid open and they made their way outside into the blinding sunlight.

He looked at the companions the man introduced, John, Teyla, Ronon and he said he was called Rodney.

Ozel-Ta had heard stories of great warriors who travelled from world to world. They were strong and brave and invincible. The only ones who could stand against the Wraith and be equal or better than them.

The way the strangers all held themselves, the clothes they wore and strange weaponry they carried. He was in the company of people who were every bit larger than life and heroic as portrayed - the kind that found themselves in the stories told of daring adventures and feats of endurance and courage, so that people never lost hope even in the darkness.

John held Rodney's arm and stretched it out to check the bleeding, Rodney furrowed his brow and grimaced. And then Ozel-Ta realised that despite the far-fetched tales that were woven about them across the galaxy, they were still human just like him and all those who lived in his village.


	73. Days

_**Days**_

Days were all it took for Rodney to snap. But snap he did eventually. Because even he was not immune to the pitfalls of a prolonged struggle in frustration and stress.

It started with a object one of the offworld teams brought back from their travels. It looked like a small Ancient data storage device, but, try as he might, Rodney couldn't interface their systems properly or decipher the gibberish sent through the cables connecting it to his computer.

He hadn't asked anyone to help, just in case it was a major discovery. Besides, it was a one man job, and he was more than up to the challenge with his vast and unrivalled intellect and knowledge.

The trouble started during his weekly briefing with Dr Weir on his department's progress. Notably when he told her he'd spent a whole day working on the device (amongst all his other duties), but had nothing to show for it.

She then gave him _that_ look. The kind of look which says, _'I'm deeply disappointed in you, and you'd better have something for me next week or there'll be hell to pay!'_

Rodney had barely slept since, spending all his waking hours with the device, and his sleep was filled with dreams about it.

He wasn't going to let it beat him, even when Zelenka shook him awake at his desk in the lab for the third morning in a row.

He was extremely stressed that day, his frustration mounting with every passing moment of working flat out, yet getting nowhere. No matter what he did, he achieved nothing. He ran the gobbledegook through every translation matrix and decryption sequence he had, and invented a few more besides. He checked it for corruption and fragmentation. He checked the casing for external (and internal) damage. His helplessness and shame at not only himself, but at what Dr Weir was going to say if he didn't find out, built and built to breaking point.

That was until Radek came over and asked if he needed any help - because it really wasn't very healthy to spend all that time obsessing over something.

Rodney replied with a low growl.

To accept help would not only be an open admission of defeat, but also that he wasn't as clever as he always proclaimed. If someone else figured it out now, then days of his time would instantly become a complete waste.

But Radek pushed it, and Rodney finally decided that he'd had enough. What exactly he said (or more likely, shouted), he couldn't remember when he woke up in his quarters a few hours later.

What he _could_ remember was the feeling that he had suddenly gained a new power to burn all forests to nought but ashes and dust before the heat of his fury. He possessed a rage that could not be contained, so intense that he could barely breathe. That was until John arrived with his drawled words, which were oddly as effective as though he'd dumped a bucket of water the size of an ocean over Rodney's head.

"Lighten up, McKay. There's no need to bite heads off. Maybe that thing you've been working on isn't supposed to _be_ anything?"

Rodney scowled. "This _is_ my happy face," he replied in hysterical sarcasm, with his features pinched sharply together in anger and his eyes ablaze with fury.

"Chill out, Rodney, or I might have to get Carson up here with that big old animal tranquilliser gun."

"I will _not_ chill." Rodney raged. "I am in no shape or form 'chilled' and neither will anything you say or do ever change that!"

Rodney's hands flailed as John moved in to grab him. He caught something on the desk with his right hand in the struggle, and paused and turned just in time to watch as the device he had been working on slipped from the edge of the desk and shattered on the floor. Time seemed to go into slow motion, but it was too late to do anything.

He blinked and felt the rage flowing from every pore and leeching out of him into the air, to be replaced by a draining and breathtaking sense of disappointment… and failure.

John spoke into his ear that he probably just needed to take some time out, maybe get some sleep, because those bags under his eyes would not be attracting any ladies any time soon, and the whole crazed hermit look was not very reassuring to anyone of his sanity… or their own safety.

Rodney allowed himself to be guided back to his quarters, and remained in a dazed and exhausted silence as he stumbled over to his bed and collapsed.

His last memory before he slept was of John telling him he'd be back in a few hours to check up on him. And that there would be food and DVDs, and probably Ronon and Teyla too.

----------

_A/N - This is like the last few weeks I've had at work... overly stressed with too much to do, and yet seemingly getting nowhere. Hence why the updates have slowed to a trickle!_


	74. Drink

_**Drink**_

Rodney stumbled down the corridor towards where the Jumper was parked on the planet they were visiting. He was feeling decidedly woozy and weak legged, courtesy of some firewater the natives had made them drink. The whole place smelt like lemon death to him, which is why he'd hardly eaten anything before drinking the liquid (100% alcohol, clearly).

"_Don't drink and fly," he'd told Sheppard in the Banquet Hall. "Should stick with water, or, well, nothing."_

_Rodney had then eyed the liquid warily as he asked, "What's in this anyway?"_

_Sheppard had given him a tipsy look, just before he'd grown a second, and then a third head. Head number one said, "Alcohol."_

"_Duh!" Rodney had ground out, shaking his head to clear the double vision. "No. It's more than that… drugs! My brain's being scrambled by alien narcotics! No no no!"_

And now Rodney was the only one still standing. It was only alcohol, right? He could fly the Jumper back. Perhaps not in a straight line, but it was easier than using a car because there was so much more space in the air and… well… inertial dampeners. No problem at all.

He drew himself up to his full height, wavered for a moment before standing proud and tall and puffing his chest out heroically. "I am Dr Rodney McKay," he announced loudly. "I can do anything. I can even fly a Jumper while intoxicated."

His booming voice sounded strange and the world tilted and tipped in time with each wobble of his uncoordinated legs. His head was spinning unmercifully like he was on one of those tea cup rides at a fair.

If it was something worse than liquor and the others didn't wake up… he had to get them all back. Only he could do it. The unconsciousness of the rest of his team made a vague spark of urgency fire in his dulled mind and he took a few seconds to register it. Whatever had been used was serious stuff to have knocked out even Ronon. He'd heard Teyla speak of the Satedan's drinking in the past. He had to glug a gallon before he started singing, and another keg or so for the passing out stage to be reached.

No-one had drunk _that_ much. It was against regulations and downright dangerous. Rodney knew he shouldn't have had anything, but he was just trying to blend in for once. But now his mind was completely addled and had kindly given him the traits of all the people who annoyed him so much - he was slow and he couldn't think straight, he felt full to the brim with bravado, but kept on losing muscle control at random, inconvenient intervals.

"Okay, moving on," he slurred and staggered. "Maybe they thought it would be funny. M-maybe they want the Puddle Jumper... But, _hello?_ Genius here. Clever enough not to take _everything_ they offered."

He got back to the Jumper where he'd been dragging Sheppard along behind him, he was so out of it he didn't even realise he'd got all the way back. He dumped John's heavy weight onto the floor of the rear compartment with the others. His arms felt loose, but not painful… yet. But he knew his whole body was going to kill him once the numbing effects of the alcohol wore off. He didn't even want to think about what his head would be doing to him the next morning.

"This is really stupid," Rodney huffed as he meandered his way into the cockpit, marvelling at how the ceiling zoomed away and then came charging back down towards him disconcertingly.

He looked back towards the fuzzy outlines of his teammates and his eyes settled on Sheppard as he mocked in an imitation of the Colonel: "You can't fly the Jumper in a straight line at the best of times, McKay. You'll crash us into a tree or into the ground."

He waggled his finger and tutted, "I don't think so, Sheppard." He sighed, "It doesn't take a genius to fly one of these things, and have you _seen_ my flying lately?! I can make this little ship zip round the piers and towers like the rest of them."

The console swam in and out of focus and he pressed a few buttons. "Pretty lights…" he mumbled. "Shields and rear hatch and engines and shields," he sang with a demented smirk.

He leant over the side of the chair and threw up. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sour taste and acid in his throat. But the stuff was in his bloodstream, so there was no way he was getting out of it that easily.

He blinked and unzipped his tac vest. He lifted up his shirt and felt a waft of cool air on his bare skin while he rubbed his sweaty face with the material. He downed some water and munched on an MRE until, to his giddy relief, the buttons coalesced into something he could read and just about understand.

He flew the ship all the way back to Atlantis. Not once slamming it against a tree or even pranging it on the ground. The flightpath might not have been straight, but it got him there in the end. Sheppard would be proud. Not a mark on his precious Jumper!

* * *

A whole day of team detox followed that. A whole day spent with a grumpy Satedan, a sour-faced Athosian and John Sheppard. It turned out that whatever drug the others had ingested to make them unconscious had been in the food Rodney hadn't eaten. Combined with the drug in the drink they had all had, it had rendered the rest of his team senseless with Rodney not far behind.

The natives hadn't been hostile though, they seemed to have an innate tolerance for it and allowed Rodney to leave when he became a little more loud mouthed and lairy than usual.

Keller was going back there, against Rodney's advice, to study the tolerance.

"Just don't eat or drink anything they offer you."

"I know, Rodney." She smiled at him, "Don't accept gifts of food and drink from strange men."

"Or women!"


	75. Where?

_A/N - Another episode tag. 'The Shrine' this time. It takes place towards the end of Rodney's illness... and breaks my heart just a little. Personally, I didn't like 'The Shrine' as it cut far too close to home for me. Which also made it quite hard to write and post this one._

**_Where?_**

John was surprised to find Rodney tearing down the corridor in white infirmary scrubs, his bare feet slap-slapping on the ground, his face red and sweaty, his chest heaving. Someone clearly hadn't been watching over him in the infirmary and had let him escape. Either that or he'd made a break for it and given them the slip.

John grabbed Rodney as he tried to get past and said, "Woah, woah! Slow down, McKay. Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?"

Rodney blinked at him and then his eyes became watery. He asked breathlessly, "Where's my cat?"

John squeezed Rodney's upper arms gently. Comfortingly. "Your cat?"

"Yes, yes. A small tabby furry thing. Always hungry, but always pleased to see me."

He looked away and a cloud passed over his face. When he looked up at John again, he spoke as though seeing him for the first time. "I seem to have misplaced my cat. Can you help me?"

Rodney suddenly started to get agitated and John let go, but kept himself ready in case Rodney tried to make a bolt for it. Rodney looked at him in despair as he cried, "Don't you understand? I don't have any other friends!"

His eyes started to well up and John went over and placed a hand on his back. "Hey hey, it's okay, Rodney. I'm here. We'll find it together."

"Her."

_"Her_ together. Where did you last see her?"

Rodney sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Follow me."

John walked behind Rodney with sadness in his heart to see his friend this way.

John had already asked himself many questions these past few days, but could never find any answers that didn't tear him apart inside.

Where was the Rodney McKay he knew? Just a couple of weeks was all it had taken for his brilliant mind to have been devastated by this illness.

Where was the intellect and wit in the slowly hollowing shell of a man before him? Frustration and fear and confusion were all that seemed to have replaced it.

And John could not help but find himself already grieving the loss of the man who still stood in front of him in body.

Rodney's mental regression had started to make him go back to his past memories too. Whether this was the cat he had had just before leaving Earth, or one from earlier in his life, perhaps even his childhood, John didn't know. But what John _did_ know was that Rodney had been lonely before his time on Atlantis, just as John himself had. And only a pet (a cat in his case) had given him the unconditional love which he had so desperately craved in his life back then.

It made sense that he looked for that comfort now, but John couldn't help but wonder when he would stop searching, as there was nothing to find.

Rodney led them into a lab and John followed. John sighed and was about to tell Rodney it was time to go back when he suddenly saw a streak of brown stripy fur and Rodney cried out in glee, "There! There!"

John nodded and said in surprise, "I saw it. What is it and how did it get on Atlantis?"

Rodney scowled at him and folded his arms over his chest. "You thought I was lying?"

"No. Well… _maybe."_

John sealed the door and together they cornered and trapped the creature, which did look remarkably like a cat, except for the oversized ears and red eyes. It must have been smuggled on base by one of the offworld teams and John made a mental note to find out where it had come from.

Rodney gathered it up in his arms and held it close to his chest. He cooed down at it as he stroked the long fur and a deep rumbling purr came from the animal.

John smiled and said, "Right, now you've found your cat, will you come back to the infirmary with me?"

Rodney smiled happily down at his new friend and said, "Sure sure."

Once they were back in the infirmary, John said he'd look after the cat until Rodney was feeling better. Although Rodney had already forgotten who John was, he _did_ remember the cat and didn't protest as long as he could see her again and keep her forever.


	76. Months

_A/N - Takes place between 'The Siege, Part 3' and 'The Intruder.'_

_**Months**_

The Atlantis expedition had spent many months away from Earth, not knowing whether they would ever return or not. As such, the Air Force had kept their salaries in trust, in that if they came back they would be paid then.

And if not… well...

Rodney made his way to the bank, not only wanting to check his salary had been paid in, but also needing to check up on his savings too. They should've been ticking along quite nicely. After all, there wasn't anything to buy in the Pegasus Galaxy and he knew they weren't going to be on Earth for very long before heading back to Atlantis.

He sat opposite the Financial Adviser with a smug smile on his face as he handed over his bank books for an update.

"_Meredith_ McKay?" the man asked with a quirk of the lips and a raised eyebrow.

McKay scowled, _"Rodney. _Please, you've got enough of my money, you should at least know my name!"

"My apologies. I'm bringing up the details on the system now, Mr McKay."

"_Doctor."_

The man nodded and at least had the decency to keep his mouth shut.

He tapped away on the computer and then frowned. He turned to Rodney and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dr McKay. All the money was taken out and these accounts were closed just over five months ago."

Rodney's heart sank and he felt his palms become sweaty. "What?!" he squeaked in outrage. "_All_ of them?"

The bank worker brought up a few more screens, far too painfully slowly for Rodney's nerves. He wanted to shove him out the way and find out who'd done it and exactly when. Maybe they had video cameras? Maybe it had been a terrible mistake! His life's savings… all gone!

The man shook his head. "You no longer hold any accounts with us, sir."

"When… who… how?" Rodney gabbled.

The man gave him a bemused look. "As I said, five months ago." He studied the screen again. "All the money was transferred out online. Surely you remember doing it?"

Rodney glared back at him, his heart pumping so fast that he was beginning to feel light headed. "No. I don't. How could I?! I've been in the Peg... _away._ Whoever took the money out is a thief."

He rubbed his forehead and shut his eyes to try and will down the nausea. "A-all my money. Wh-who could've done this?!"

The man brought up some more systems. "I'll speak with our fraud department and we'll see what we can do for you. It may take some time to trace it and five months is a long time ago."

Rodney looked back at him bleary eyed. It wasn't like he _needed_ the money right now, but what about the future? What was he supposed to do the next time he was on Earth? Where would he live when he retired? He'd been intending to buy a really nice place with all the tech and gear he could ever want to keep his mind occupied. But now he had nothing.

"Alright," he heard himself say, but it didn't sound like his voice and it was almost as though his mind had detached from his body in the shock. "When should I expect to hear from you?"

"Give it a few days and we'll have some answers."

Rodney left the bank clutching his useless pass books to his chest tightly. The sun was bright outside, but none of the warmth or brightness could push away the dark clouds gathered around him.

He stumbled back to his flat in a daze and drew up his computer. The bank could try, but he would find a way to trace the money himself and much faster. He called Sheppard a few times, but he didn't pick up. Probably out on a beach somewhere surrounded by scantily clad women in his time off. He didn't leave a message. What could he say? _'Hi Sheppard. Someone just stole thousands and thousands of dollars from me. Everything I had. Hope you're having fun. Bye.'_

At least he had the flat (at least he hoped it was still his) - the mortgage all paid off from the time he'd spent in Russia and Antarctica. But he didn't have any food and no longer had the means to pay for it.

He was just about to break through the bank's firewall to access his details, when the door suddenly burst open and two men came into his home.

He pushed himself away from the computer and thinking they were there because of his hacking, he called out, "I'm not doing anything wrong! It's _my_ money that's been taken!"

A third man stepped through the door. "Oh, I know it has, Dr McKay."

His two henchman rushed at Rodney. He hit out, but they were faster. He ended up on the floor with his arms pulled painfully behind his back, his wrists and ankles bound. He was rendered immobile and helpless on his belly on the floor and what he suspected was a foot was placed in between his shoulder blades to keep him pinned down.

The leader walked over and stood next to him, his heavily booted feet mere inches from Rodney's terrified face. The man said, "But I thought you weren't coming back ever again. If you were to… _disappear_, then it would no longer matter."

"You! I remember you! You're a scientist from the SGC!" Rodney shut his eyes and thought for a moment, "Uh, Doctor Sandpapers?"

The man crouched down and used his gloved hand to grip Rodney's hair and pull his head back too far, so that his neck twinged painfully. Rodney gasped as the man revealed his real name. "Saunders."

Rodney winced and struggled. "B-but you were on the shortlist to get assigned to Atlantis. I'm glad you didn't make it. But who are your men?"

"They are also people whom you've wrong-footed in the past. There are many and they're really not that hard to find."

"Thank you," Rodney muttered vehemently.

Saunders let go of him, straightened up and turned to his men. "Take him to the van."

Rodney grumbled from the floor, "All this for a few thousand dollars? Is that all I'm worth?"

Saunders leered down at him nastily. "I took the money to hurt whoever you leave behind when they discover you have nothing. If there's even anyone who cares. And this is to hurt _you_."

Rodney struggled in desperation. They wanted everything he owned, right down to his life also. But why? He gasped out, "Just because I'm cleverer than you?"

Rodney never got an answer, and neither did he get the chance to break free, before many swift and savage kicks to different parts of his prone body made his world turn black.

* * *

John knew something was up when he checked his phone and found nine missed calls from McKay. He rang back, but there was no answer. He checked in with the SGC, but Rodney wasn't there either. They said he'd gone home for a few days. That made sense, as it's what John had done.

But John had only been out for a half hour jog around his neighbourhood. Nine calls in half an hour? Alarm bells started to ring and John packed up his gear and headed out. It was probably nothing, but it was better to be sure.

It took John a few hours to drive his hire car up to Rodney's place. They'd swapped addresses before heading home. When he got there, his heart sank when he discovered his concerns were valid.

The door to Rodney's flat was kicked in and there were signs of a struggle. Most concerning of all were the few drops of blood John found on the floor next to the computer desk.

He called into the SGC again and they told him to return to the mountain and they'd co-ordinate the search from there.

John checked the computer before he left. All the leads had been cut, but he was sure the guys at the SGC would have no problems about it. He grabbed the base unit containing the hard drive on his way out.

* * *

A few more precious hours later and John sat in the briefing room in the SGC, surrounded by military personnel.

The Daedalus had tracked Rodney's subcutaneous transponder to a warehouse a couple of hundred miles away. They were reluctant to beam him out, or beam anyone in, just in case civilians who hadn't been security cleared were nearby.

John feared the worst though, especially when the scientists with Rodney's computer discovered what he'd been doing and finished the work he started. They discovered all his money had been siphoned out of his accounts in the months while he'd been busy being a hero and saving people in the Pegasus.

It was a terrible thing to come home to, especially considering he'd been prepared to sacrifice his life for Earth, and therefore for the people who'd stolen from him.

The SGC were using their best people to trace the hack, and John suspected it was linked to whoever had forcibly kidnapped Rodney. In the meantime John and a team of heavily armed marines were already on a helicopter heading towards Rodney. The readings couldn't tell whether he was dead or alive, but John pushed that out of his mind as he willed the pilot to fly the thing faster and get there in time.

What they found was a small warehouse in the middle of an industrial estate. It had a single large room with sliding doors like an aircraft hanger and a couple of offices tacked on the side.

Storming the building was easy. Whoever they were, they weren't military, and he counted only ten guards who were easily overpowered with little to no bloodshed.

The offices were empty, but they found their quarry in the main part of the building. A man with a crazed expression stood behind the one secured tightly to the chair with thick loops of rope around his wrists and ankles holding him immobile. His mouth had duct tape over it, but his eyes remained shut where his head lolled down towards his chest.

The man had a knife to Rodney's throat and John called out to him, "Drop the weapon and back off! We _will_ shoot you if you don't comply!"

It looked like Rodney was about to be tortured, the way that he was bound like that. If he hadn't been already…

The man pressed the knife more firmly against Rodney's neck, hard enough that it drew blood, which ran down and pooled against the collar of his shirt. He was unconscious or drugged though, because he didn't flinch. John could see that he was still breathing though, but if anything nasty had been done to him, it was hidden beneath his clothes.

At least, that was what John believed until Rodney's captor grabbed hold of his hair and pulled his head back so that the knife dug in deeper. And John finally saw the extent of the bruising on Rodney's face. His nose was swollen and there was dried blood around his nostrils, some of it coating the tape over his mouth. His eye sockets were bruised and he was so deeply unconscious that he didn't move at all.

"Drop it!" John shouted, keeping his voice imperious despite the shock and anger he felt inside at Rodney's condition. "You're surrounded."

It sounded like such a cliché, but John was all out of ideas.

One of the marines who'd now circled round to the other side of the building readied his gun noisily and the man lessened the pressure on the knife digging into Rodney. He looked all around the room at the guns pointing at him and then visibly relaxed.

"Alright, alright." He dropped the knife and backed off with his hands held up.

The marines were there in an instant, handcuffing him and leading him away. John approached Rodney and quickly cut through the bonds securing him and pulled off the tape over his mouth. His wrists and ankles were red and his hands felt cold from the tightness of the restraints. But there was no blood and his skin wasn't bruised to show any struggling. So John inferred that Rodney had been unconscious the whole time. He prayed that this was the case and Rodney hadn't been hurt while tied up and at the mercy of the madman who'd just been led away.

John placed a hand on Rodney's chest and one around his back to tip him forwards. He then grabbed Rodney under the arms and heaved him up and out of the chair and laid him down on the floor on his side. He radioed for help, and a moment later a bright white light filled his vision and he found himself suddenly in the Daedalus infirmary. Rodney was lifted up and away from him and placed on a gurney to be checked over by the team on duty.

John straightened up and the adrenaline he'd felt in the raid and hostage situation slowly dissipated to be replaced with worry.

Rodney lay completely still and unresponsive as his bleeding neck was swiftly bandaged. John was pushed back out of the way while the team assessed Rodney. They cut away his clothes and found that he was badly bruised all over. They spoke of possible internal injuries. He had a serious head injury too, so was quickly whisked away to be scanned and treated.

* * *

John stayed on the Daedalus after that. Partly to protect Rodney, but mostly to make sure he was alright. Rodney was too ill to go home. Elizabeth and Carson visited a few times.

Rodney's injuries slowly healed, luckily without the need for surgery, but it had been touch and go for a while as the doctors monitored the internal bleeding. And the skull fracture and concussion he suffered were now a lot better after he'd been sedated for several days to allow the swelling to go down.

It turned out that his injuries were such that it was doubtful he would've woken up on his own to endure any torture at the hands of his captors anyway. If that had truly been their intention…

Rodney soon woke up after the drugs were dialled back, and any brain damage was ruled out despite the ordeal he'd endured. He slurred an immediate demand for a computer, and, much to John's amusement, he caught Rodney playing games on it more than once.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" John asked one day, after the bruising had mostly faded from Rodney's pale face.

"My head broke! How do _you_ think?!"

"Not so good then."

Rodney hummed sadly.

John called over the doctor on duty who topped up the pain meds.

Rodney sighed and said, "You know what? I think I prefer it here." He paused in his typing on the computer resting on the table over his lap for a few seconds. "No-one to come and kidnap me."

John nodded. "I'm just glad they found out who emptied your accounts and got it all back again."

Rodney smiled. "It's a shame Saunders was almost as good a hacker as I am."

John smirked, "Almost?"

"He left his grubby thieving fingerprints all over it. It's the sloppiest work I've ever seen. There was no way he'd have got away with it. Maybe he assumed I wouldn't be coming back?"

"Good thing he didn't come with us to Atlantis."

Rodney nodded and winced. "Turns out he failed the psych tests." He continued in sarcasm, "Although I find that rather hard to believe considering what he did to me."

John added, "And the SGC eventually chucked him out."

"He wanted revenge, and I was an easy target."

"Bet he's kicking himself now from whatever cell they've got him in."

Because Rodney had friends who never gave up on him. Maybe Saunders only remembered him as the abrasive loner from back in the brief times he'd spent in the SGC? And mistakenly believed him to be a man who no-one would miss and no-one would bother looking for until it was far too late.

How wrong he'd been.


	77. Outsides

_**Outsides**_

Rodney felt an oddly damp patch on his tac vest and shirt as he and his team made their way back to the gate. They were heavily laden with fruit and vegetables and a quantity of chewy dried meat that the over-eager natives had been keen to shove into their hands as gestures of friendship and goodwill (for once).

Rodney shifted his overstuffed, ton-weight backpack higher so that he could lift his hand up to explore what the spreading damp patch was. He gingerly dabbed at his side and grimaced at the warmth of the liquid. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and his hand began to shake as he drew it forward to confirm his fears.

When he saw the deeply red, slightly sticky liquid now coating his fingers, his whole body began to vibrate with his increasing heart rate and the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He stopped, nearly making Teyla walk right into him, and breathed out in shock, "I… I, uh… I think I'm bleeding."

Despite the quietness of his fearful voice, his team were instantly there. His pack was removed and he was helped to lie down. Antiseptic wipes and bandages and painkillers appeared from somewhere and a hand grasped his own, small enough that he knew it was Teyla's, tightly enough to anchor him in his fright.

He was strangely pain free, but put it down to his body's natural analgesia courtesy of the adrenaline rush. There was a slightly strange sense of floating too, probably from the ridiculous rate that his heart was pounding and pushing what little blood remained in him around his body.

But insides belonged just there, _inside_ him. Right where they should remain!

Unfortunately black clothes were good for hiding blood and injuries and it took Ronon and John several seconds between them to locate the source of the bleeding.

Ronon dabbed his hand against the wound, and Rodney winced.

He rubbed his fingers together, brought them up and sniffed. He then put his tongue out and tasted.

"Ew!" Rodney cried. "That's both sadistic and gross!" He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, turning his face away in shock and disgust.

Ronon mumbled, "Doesn't smell or taste like blood."

Rodney's reply was made in horror, his voice reaching the higher octaves of panic, "Thank you for your medical opinion, Doctor Vampire!"

John and Ronon finally managed to wrestle Rodney's tac vest open and John peeled back Rodney's jacket and shirt to reveal a large amount of the sticky red liquid coating his abdomen. He cleaned it away with the antiseptic and Rodney flinched at the coolness of the wipe as he waited in fear for the pain of a bandage to be pressed against him.

But nothing happened so he opened his eyes.

Ronon gestured down at Rodney's jacket and then lifted up the open right flap lying on the ground. He reached inside and pulled out…

"Fruit?" Rodney said. "But I thought I'd been shot or stabbed… The blood?!"

John shook his head. "It's blood alright, but it isn't yours. One of the natives must've stuffed it in your pocket when you weren't looking."

"And I squashed it?"

Ronon smirked at him, "You killed it alright."

Rodney felt his heart sink in embarrassment at his overreaction. Teyla was still holding his hand, and he had to resist the urge to rip it out of her grasp, roll over and run away from them all.

"It could've been citrus…" Rodney mumbled.

Teyla squeezed his hand and her face was full of unguarded joy for a moment as she gazed at him and said, "I am truly grateful that you are uninjured."

Ronon and John helped Rodney upright and he rubbed at the damp patch and pulled up his shirt and checked his belly for himself. There was a red stain, but it was clear that it was only on the outside and it certainly wasn't _human_ blood. He let out a shaky breath and laughed in relief, then remembered the rest of his team and feared what they would think of him now.

John was putting away the bandages and looking pensive, but then he turned to Rodney and his face changed into a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Rodney. Better safe than sorry."

Ronon patted Rodney on the back and said, "We'll have to have a memorial service for it later."

"Yeah, in the Mess Hall with all its friends," Sheppard said with a smirk as he shouldered Rodney's fruit-laden backpack.

Rodney relaxed and released a long sigh of relief as his heart rate returned to normal. His fear and embarrassment melted away in the presence of the ever accepting and tolerant team of friends surrounding him.


	78. Moon

_A/N – another slightly longer one. A bit of horror too for added fun._

_**Moon**_

"Why did we come here at night?" Rodney asked under his breath.

"Why are you whispering?" John said quietly.

Rodney shrugged and glanced around nervously with his eyes gleaming in the starlight. "Just felt like the right thing to do in the dark."

"The people of this world are only awake at night," Teyla said. "It is too hot during the day, and the animals they hunt are also nocturnal."

John stepped away from the gate and shone his torch around. Teyla did likewise, but Ronon, being Ronon, just had his blaster, along with the clothes on his back, and nothing else.

Rodney had his scanner up and it illuminated his face in a ghostly hue. "There are several life signs approaching."

John asked, "Good or bad?"

"Yes, this button here tells me their names too!"

Ronon drew his blaster. "Where?"

"Straight ahead in the trees."

There was a sudden cry from ahead of them. "Fear! Do not leave the shelter of the trees and caves!"

John drawled, "Uhm, _okay…"_

Rodney frowned down at his scanner. "They've stopped."

Teyla started forwards. "I do not believe they mean us harm. It sounded more like a warning for our sake than any hostility."

The shout came again, "Safety! You must quickly hide! The moon comes and she will see you."

Rodney mumbled, "What the…?"

They all obeyed and were soon under the trees. Sure enough a few minutes later, the sky above was brightened by the orb rising over the horizon.

The natives led them through the trees, always careful to avoid any clearings or pale shafts of moonlight streaming through the gaps.

Rodney caught up with the others who were exchanging the usual pleasantries and trading plans. He asked one of the men walking with them, who he thought was called Astar or Astrid or something. "What's wrong with the moon? Why can't you let the light hit you?"

The man looked at him as though he'd grown a second head. "Strange. You mean that you do not know the power the moon wields?!"

Rodney frowned at him, "Seriously? Power?"

"Truth. Many have been taken by her wrath."

"Taken?" Rodney asked with a voice not quite hiding his emotions.

"Sorrow. She spares no one. Man, woman or child."

Rodney eyed the man next to him. "Do you always answer with one word that makes no sense to what you say next?"

"Violence. And you do not. I find it hard to understand you."

"Not the only one…" Rodney breathed.

"Clarity. Why not share our innermost thoughts and feelings? The first word uttered is the one coming to mind before we speak."

Rodney gave him a sidelong glance. "Crackpot. How can a simple moon be something to fear? It's only an object in orbit around the planet. What does it do to people? Vaporize them with moonbeams?"

"Vanish. There is never anything left. Those who have seen what happened were often driven to madness."

"Oh, please. This is so ridiculous. Such superstitious nonsense!" Rodney tapped his scanner a few times, but seeing nothing untoward, he walked out into the open white glowing ground of the nearest clearing.

And promptly vanished into thin air.

* * *

Rodney fell quickly downwards the moment the white light disappeared. He would've screamed in manly terror had there actually been any air to suck in in order for his lungs to push it out again.

But there was nothing. He gasped into the pitch black void and felt his senses rapidly failing.

He suddenly landed on something equally soft and sharp. It gave way under him where he rolled over and over and there was a bright pain in his leg first and then his side and finally his chest as his body went across whatever he'd just landed on. He kept rolling to spread out the force of the impact so that it didn't kill him.

He then became still and his chest tightened painfully when he tried to draw in a breath and found nothing. His heartbeat increased until he thought it would burst. But before he passed from awareness, he saw lights starting to turn on and fill his eyes in their glow, and felt the puff of cool oxygen on his face. But it was not enough to stop the inexorable pull of blissful sleep and he promptly fell unconscious.

* * *

The first thing Rodney noticed when he woke up was the smell.

He then realised he was in pain. Quite a lot of pain.

In fact, the very last thing he realised was that he was, in actual fact, still alive.

His throat felt tight and sore and his whole body was a mass of throbbing and stinging and sharpness. He sucked in a breath through his mouth and then opened his eyes.

He was lying on his back looking up and up and up towards a ceiling way above him. If he'd fallen all that way, he was surprised that he was alive at all.

He drew up a shaking hand and rubbed his face. His hand was sticky and nasty, so he only succeeded in making himself messier than he'd been before.

He sighed and coughed with a wince as a circle of fire danced around his ribcage.

Tapping his radio instead, he tried to raise the others without any reply. He attempted to find his scanner, but either he'd lost it on the planet or during his fall, because his hand came back empty.

The smell started to make him lightheaded and nauseous. It was like mouldy old meat and not at all pleasant, so he breathed through his mouth instead.

But it wasn't enough and he shut his eyes as he rolled over onto all fours and vomited, adding yet another alluring layer of aroma to the place where he'd been taken.

And that was pain right there, more blindingly bright than before and stealing his breath away between heaves.

More alarming though, was that his hands seemed to be sinking into something.

He opened his eyes. Which, in hindsight, was perhaps not the cleverest thing he'd ever done.

He shrieked in fright and scrambled away from the pit of bones and half decayed bodies he'd landed in. Some were still juicy, others had been there for years and were nothing but skeletons.

How had they decayed though? And where the hell was he?

Unless there was a flesh eating parasite that didn't require much air to nibble its way through them?

Rodney patted himself down, but that only increased the pain and he wondered whether he was already infected. He ended up crying out in pain and horror in the bottom of the pit and temporarily lost his mind trying to get away from it and the smell filling his nostrils even as he breathed through his mouth in short gasping pants.

"Okay, McKay," he shut his eyes and ground out after a few minutes of insanity. "That's enough madness for now. Get a grip on yourself. The walls are brown. It looks like Atlantis. That means it's Ancient, your gene activated it and there must be a nice friendly control panel in here somewhere."

He sucked in a breath and blinked slowly. "Right. That still hurts. Why does it hurt?"

He looked down at himself and saw that some of his clothing was torn and bloody. There was a spiked shard of brown and white jutting out of his lower abdomen and he startled. Sure it hurt like hell, but how did his rib break off and force itself through his skin down that low?!

"Not _my_ rib," he uttered as he tested the edges of the wound. Where he'd landed on the bone pile he'd snapped some of them, and broken bones were as sharp as knives when falling from that height.

Bile came back up his throat as he manipulated the edges of the wound, but found the injury to be too deep and that the object impaling him would have to stay in, horrid as it was.

He wrapped a bandage around it and around his lower leg and chest where there were several more weeping lacerations. His arms and legs were covered in cuts and scrapes and bruises, but he soon ran out of bandages and the hateful stinging antiseptic cream, so had no other choice than to bear those injuries without treatment and hope they didn't get infected with millions of flesh eating parasites.

He staggered upright and held onto his belly around the wound as he looked at the scene before him. The pile he was standing on was heaped in the middle, but gradually got lower towards the edges where most of the bodies had long since turned to nothing but dust and bones.

The dead shouldn't kill or hurt the living. But now he was about to join them unless he pulled together all his remaining strength and did something about it!

He spotted what he was looking for on the far side of the room, and limped over towards it, trying not to look at what, or more accurately, _who, _he was stepping on to do so. His legs felt shaky and weak, and a constant taste of sour bile assailed his throat and burnt its way up his oesophagus to try and make him choke. It could do nothing to block out the smell though, so he moved his arm up and breathed through his sleeve. Which wasn't much better as there was something sticky and rather nasty stubbornly clinging to it.

"So horrible. This is the worst thing I've ever had to do. I'm going to be mentally scarred for life."

He leant over the wonderful control panel when he got there and sucked in some more breaths to keep himself from passing out at the light headedness, that seemed to be getting worse all the time.

A few button presses later and he found out many things. He was on the moon, just as the natives feared. The base was some kind of transportation device for grain and other crops. It got transported from the planet into the silo he had ended up in, and then subjected to a vacuum to keep it preserved until needed.

Something had clearly gone wrong with the transporter's targeting scanners, as they were set to grab any visible people from the planet at night time.

Rodney quickly deactivated the system and then set the scanner to target him and beam him back to the gate on the planet.

The world then erupted into bright white for a moment and then black.

Rodney felt the cool breeze on his face and inhaled a deep breath of clean air. It was one of the sweetest things he ever tasted, but the depth of his inhalation made something inside his chest pull. From the resultant coughing fit that engulfed him, he was sent to his knees first, and then spiralling down into darkness as he pitched sideways and lost consciousness.

* * *

The next thing Rodney knew was that he was in the infirmary surrounded by machines and tubes and leads. His abdomen, chest and leg felt warm from the tight bandages wrapped around him.

He winced and opened his eyes to find his team gathered around him, looking on expectantly.

"How're you doing?" John asked.

"Hurts a little. Was that a nightmare I just had, or did I get stabbed by some dead guy's femur?"

Teyla pursed her lips and John grimaced.

Ronon was the one who answered though. "It was real."

"Oh."

John reassured him, "But you fixed it so that it'll never happen again."

Rodney remembered what he had seen in the logs. "I think the purpose was as a long range transporter experiment to avoid having to use Puddle Jumpers."

John filled in the gaps of what had happened while Rodney was unconscious. "Zelenka's already been out with a research team in a Jumper to check it out. There were several teams of marines running shuttles to move all the bodies back to the planet. Carson checked it out too."

Ronon finished, "Some of them had been there for centuries."

"But it's no better than the Asgard beam on the Daedalus," Rodney complained. "Interesting crop storage idea though." His voice turned bitter and mournful, "Shame it killed so many people before I was able to turn it off."

Teyla looked downcast and then lightened, "They have all been properly buried and commemorated now."

John said, "The natives are very upset about it, but they're willing to trade anything with us now that no-one else will ever be taken."

Ronon grunted, _"Trade?_ It though they were giving it all away?"

Teyla smiled serenely around at them all as she said, "But we will not take advantage of their misfortune and generosity."

Sheppard schooled his features. "No. Absolutely not."

Rodney nodded and winced. He soon drifted off to sleep again and at least one member of his team stayed with him while he recovered.


	79. Food

_**Food**_

When Rodney was found, several frantic months after his capture, he was wrapped in a baggy white cloth and bound hand and foot. He faced the wall where he curled up on the hard stone floor in the corner furthest from the door of his small, damp cell.

He didn't seem to have any visible external injuries, but he was thin and his face was gaunt and pale with cracked lips, his cheekbones clearly defined and his eyes sunken into the darkened sockets. And as he breathed, slowly and shallowly, there was a nasty rattle and wheeze deep in his once broad and proud chest that was now frighteningly narrow.

Only Carson would tell whether it was pneumonia or a punctured lung, or something worse (because if worse things existed in the universe, Rodney was bound to get them, despite his hypochondria).

He didn't stir as the medical team led by Carson approached. They cut his bonds, revealing that his wrists and ankles were badly bruised. That meant he must have been this thin before he was abandoned, otherwise they would be loose by now. When they cut away the single sheet of grubby cloth covering him, there was a collective intake of breath in shock. His ribs were visible and his collar bones jutted out sharply from emaciation. Where his belly had once been soft and slightly curved, now it was flat and hollow. All his limbs were wasted to such an extent that they looked ready to snap like spindly twigs.

It took Carson three goes to get an IV into one of his retreated veins, and still Rodney didn't move, starved and dehydrated and weak as he was.

John, Teyla and Ronon kept watch, but there was no-one there. Once the captors had got wind that the Lanteans knew the location of the one they had taken, they'd cleared out. But the information was days old, trickling through the network of contacts, taking time – too much time? - to reach them.

How had Rodney survived days without any food or water at all? It was clear that he hadn't been fed properly or looked after in his ordeal of torturous neglect.

"Get a sample of the moss please," Carson asked.

And then John realised that the scrapings and lines on the walls were where Rodney had been so hungry that in desperation he had eaten the plants and sucked the dampness from the walls. But it hadn't been enough to sustain a man for long as he was in a coma and circling the drain every second they stood there. John grimaced as he and Ronon carried the stretcher bearing a very light load as fast as they could back to the waiting Jumper.

----------

When Rodney woke up, he felt weak and empty. He tried to lift him arms and legs to stand so that he could lick up some more of the bitter, and no doubt poisonous, moss from the walls of his prison for meagre fuel. But he couldn't move at all, so useless were his muscles. Although, deep inside, he felt stronger than before and his breaths no longer caused the deep biting ache in his chest. He certainly felt strong enough that he could open his eyes, but only just, and even that tiny motion used up just about everything he had. More energy was expended to focus his pupils, and he saw with a start of surprise that he was home - in the infirmary and threaded up with enough needles and lines to wrap around Lantea at least once, but alive, barely.

John was with him, watching carefully. "How are you doing?"

Rodney coughed harshly and winced, but didn't yet have the strength or muscle control to move his jaw or pull his vocal chords taut to make a sound other than a short moan of acknowledgement.

John reached out and patted his shoulder lightly, "Hey, hey, it's okay. Carson said he'd be surprised if you could talk yet. Save your strength for the physio and super bulk-out diet that Carson's drawing up for you. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Rodney nodded once, his flagging strength already completely sapped. He was looking forward to being able to eat again after the endless weeks of hunger never satisfied by the gruel and moss.

How often he had fantasised about a nice juicy steak, or a power bar, or even just a single square of sweet chocolate, in the long, dark and cold nights of his loneliness back in that hated place.

He'd have to be careful though, or he would eat and eat and eat and never stop.


	80. Blue

_*hugs Rodney tightly*_

_**Blue**_

Rodney doesn't breakdown. He just doesn't. Especially not in front of everyone.

Rodney isn't _allowed_ to get upset and cry. He has always known that because he's a man, he mustn't show any weakness or emotion, talking about it is forbidden, so it stays all gathered up inside him in an ever growing bubble of misery. Even in private, not a drop of water falls from his eyes, no matter how much he wants to release it sometimes.

----------

His co-workers and friends sometimes get killed in front of his eyes, yet he always thought he could've done something to save them, far too late to be any help. He was a genius, but he had his limits, and those limits included the inability to go back in time or to raise the dead. Although he was working on the time travel thing.

That eye irritation at the memorial services was no more than his eyelashes falling out again, as they always tended to do.

----------

When he blew up the better part of a solar system, Rodney's friends were upset with him, none more so than Weir and Sheppard. He was upset with _himself_. But he was more angry than anything. Angry that he failed, not only himself, but everyone in the Pegasus, for not finding a way to get the most powerful weapon ever to have existed to work properly.

That itchiness in his eyes was just tiredness. More than two hours of sleep was required to function, Rodney thought, as he rubbed away and made his eyes worse.

----------

Rodney didn't even cry when he was seriously injured or about to die. The back of that sunken puddle jumper was full of water - _salty_ water - that was what stung his eyes and made them sore.

When he had been shot, first with the arrow, and then by John, his eyes watered, but that was just the horrible pain that was making them do that.

----------

And then Carson died. Not a single tear of sorrow fell from Rodney after that. He was _too_ upset. It was a sadness that cut deeper than anything before ever had, like a heavy black blanket of darkness that settled over him, and he drew it around his shoulders tightly.

He didn't cry when he heard, or at the memorial service, or when he told Carson's parents about what had happened (without revealing too many secrets). Not a drop was shed, even at the funeral back on Earth, or at the wake with Carson's parents, who were ever so nice to him (and made him feel guilty for intruding in the family matter).

The grief burrowed so closely to his heart that he sometimes found it hard to get enough air around the obstruction in his throat. It was merely that he needed oxygen, that his eyes went cloudy so he could hardly see. Suffocating did things like that to him.

No mournful tears fell from him where he stood on one of the Lantean piers a few days later, pondering the infinity of the scene before him. His vision of the universe in that moment went upwards to the sky, beyond to the horizon, and down into the dark and fearful oceanic depths. It all went on forever, unlike him and his friends would, he now realised.

The salty tang of the sea air and the swishing of the waves assaulted his senses. Spray flew up against the edge of the pier and soon he was completely drenched, but he remained standing there. His shivering and uneven breaths were from the cold water seeping through his clothes and touching bare skin, nothing else.

It was just a combination of the icy air and salty water that made his eyes stream as it blew against his face.

And he let them run without bothering to wipe the tears away.


	81. Enemies

_A/N - Here's that hug I was promising. I think Rodney really needs it in this one._

_**Enemies**_

It was the Wraith worshippers that took Rodney away.

The rest of his team lay stunned for at least an hour after the ambush. A whole hour when the men that had captured their teammate did who knew what to him for their evil purposes and the misguided belief that they could get on the good side of the Wraith and be spared.

The Wraith didn't have a good side, and the worshippers didn't spare anyone even as they wanted to be themselves. Because even the enemies of the other humans in the Pegasus were bound to death. That was the only constant in a universe of bloodshed and pain. Both would die, and in that way, they were united with their victims.

Perhaps they took Rodney because they thought he was weak, thought he would be soft and easily pliable to their will. Maybe they just didn't like something about the way he looked or spoke.

More likely it was because he didn't immediately shoot back, and a single solid smack in the face subdued him enough for them to bind and take him away.

When his team recovered, Ronon ran to the gate for Keller and as many marines as he could get, while John and Teyla tracked the kidnappers.

It was bad enough when the Genii had been the only bullies that wanted to kidnap and torture Lantean scientists. Wraith worshippers were indiscriminate, any Earth human would do, and they only wanted one thing - the location of Earth for their masters. No matter how strong the Lanteans were, it would take just a single moment of weakness for one of them to let the information slip.

John trusted that Rodney would be strong enough, but just hoped they hadn't damaged him too badly yet. It had only been an hour, after all.

The Puddle Jumper reached John and Teyla before they found Rodney. Lorne picked them up and they tracked Rodney's subcutaneous transponder to a small village, several miles away. How they had got so far in such a short space of time, John was unsure, but hopefully that meant that Rodney hadn't been broken yet in mind or body.

Lorne kept the Jumper cloaked as he fired and detonated a drone above the village to spook the locals out. He then landed the ship in the courtyard outside the building where Rodney was being held. He kept the cloak on, and didn't bother to dodge a wooden cart that was promptly flattened to tinder wood under the hull.

The natives fled, but two lifesigns remained in the building, which just looked like an ordinary house, except for the shuttered windows and darkness within.

John, Teyla and Ronon went in first, with the marines protecting the Jumper and med team.

The team stealthily made their way through the dark rooms and then upstairs.

An emotionless voice asked questions from a room they hadn't found yet. "Where is Earth?"

"No."

"Tell me, or I'll put you in the chair again. Those pretty hands of yours won't last much longer."

"N-no. I w-won't do it!"

There was a harsh cry that made John's heart leap up into his throat.

The door didn't take long to beat down at the end of John's boot, and he flashed his torch into the room and blinded the assailant. He squeezed the trigger and put two bullets in the man. One in the head, the other in the chest. Another flash of gunfire and a bright red light flew out and hit the man at the same time. He was dead before he hit the ground, the bloodied knife he held clattered along the floor.

Then John saw Rodney. He was suspended from the rafters, with tight coils of rope around his wrists and hands, which were pulled above his head. His feet trailed on the ground and his shirt was missing. There were small needle puncture wounds on his arms, he was blindfolded and blood was running down his forearms from his hands. But the worst of the injuries were the freshest ones. Two long diagonal cuts traced the lower edge of each side of his ribcage in a cruel V. He let out a shuddering whimper and gasped for breath. As his skin stretched, the cuts opened up and more blood dribbled from them.

If it weren't for all the blood, they'd look like gills, but Rodney needed air to breathe, not water.

There was a table nearby covered with sharp metal implements, bottles of unknown liquid and syringes that John barely had to glance at to grimace.

Rodney's head tilted forwards and he shifted against the restraints that were pulling his body taut, but he could hardly move, and the blood flow from the lacerations increased until he was covered in it and it seeped into the clothes covering his lower half.

"Wh-who's there?" he asked fearfully.

"Rodney, it's us. Teyla, Ronon and John."

"N-no! It's a trick! D-don't… I won't tell you."

He flinched away as Ronon used his superior height to cut the bonds and gently lowered Rodney to the floor.

Teyla had already radioed down for the med team and Jennifer came into the room as Ronon used his knife to remove the blindfold and rope around Rodney's wrists.

The moment he was free, Rodney yelped in fright and scooted backwards into the far wall. He drew his knees up into his chest and covered his face. But John had already seen the paths traced down his grubby face. He hid his tears with one bloody hand and sobbed passionately as he held his other hand out in front of himself to ward off anyone who got close. His wrists were dark purple and indented from the tight bonds and his hands shook uncontrollably.

John approached cautiously, not wanting to spook Rodney in his altered state and turn him violent. He called out again, "Rodney, it's just us! We're here to rescue you and take you home."

"I don't believe you!" Rodney cried, as his bare shoulders continued to shake. All the while he muttered a constant stream of words under his breath, "They have drugs and tricks and lies. They gave me drugs to make me talk and scream and hurt and cry and talk. You'll be nice _now_, but then it'll be the chair again and the knives and acid and the p-pliers will come out and then there'll be more screaming."

He moved further away into the darkness of the far corner and continued to shield his face from them with his bleeding hands. John couldn't see the source of the blood in the dim light, but grimaced at the mention of pliers, as he had an idea of what had been done to him.

Jennifer was bolder. She immediately went over to Rodney and crouched down. Instead of going right for him, she whispered soothing words that John could not hear, and very gently grasped the trembling hand held out to ward her off.

Rodney's shoulders slumped and he relaxed and allowed Jennifer to wrap his hands first, which were shy of several fingernails as John had feared, and then bandage his middle. He would need stitches, but the priority was getting out of there before the locals returned.

His physical injuries looked painful, but were not yet life threatening. They had reached him in time. But while Jennifer worked, Rodney continued to keep his face covered with at least one hand, and still the paths of liquid dribbled down below where he could hide them and dripped from his chin.

Jennifer furrowed her brow as she wrapped a blanket around his quaking shoulders and drew it in snugly around his chest, allowing her hands to linger in their touch and ground him.

"We have to go back now, Rodney. Do you think you can walk?"

"N-n-no."

"That's okay, we'll get a stretcher. How about showing me those bright blue eyes I know you have hiding under there?"

"No."

"Suit yourself, but I would've thought you'd be concerned about that big brain of yours and I do need to check for head injury."

Rodney very reluctantly lowered his hands down, showing them his swollen eyes and bruised cheek. He peered around the room at all of them and abruptly curled up tightly with a wince, burying his face into his knees. He was still shaking from whatever foul liquid they had injected into him and his eyes continued to water.

Jennifer grabbed hold of him, gathered his upper body in her arms and drew him into a hug. She rubbed his back as she whispered into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay. You said it's just from the drugs they gave you, but you're safe now. You'll feel better soon. Let us take you home."

Rodney slowly uncurled himself in her embrace and sniffed heartily. She checked his eyes with the penlight and he tensed up.

Jennifer smiled at him and he even managed to offer her a very weak one in return. "All good. Let's get out of here, shall we?"

He staggered up to his feet with her help. With all the others flanking them, Jennifer supported Rodney as he stumbled his way back to the Jumper and gradually the alien drugs wore off and his face dried.


	82. Sight

**Sight**

Rodney was a quite a sight to behold when he returned from his sojourn on planet with all the kids. It had been his turn to visit them this time. Unluckily for him, it was busy in the gate room when the wormhole activated and he stepped through with his escort. All heads turned to look at what had been done to him.

His hair wasn't quite long enough for the braids Radek had been subjected to when he'd gone back to check their shield was still working. So instead, the kids had used what looked like oily face paints to mark his hair in the same way as his face - in uneven, yet symmetrical, stripes and splotches of orange, red, blue and green. And they had somehow looped multi-coloured beads around his ears too.

Under the makeup, his face was grumpy, and he snarled as John approached. His escort were marked in far more adult and manly camouflage of browns and greens, having helped the kids to do the same. Rodney vowed never to take chocolate to them again. It hadn't worked to fend them off at all. In fact, it had only made them 'reward' him by turning him into a walking, talking face painting experiment.

"Hey, McKay," John called out, struggling and failing to keep a straight face.

Rodney grimaced and walked as quickly as he could to flee the gate room and the amused expressions of those who had seen him.

John trotted behind and drew alongside. He glanced down at Rodney's chest and leant over to ask, "How far down do those swirling patterns go?"

Rodney halted, turned, and glared at him. "Don't. Just… don't speak to me."

John smiled as they started walking again and went through the transporter. "It suits you. Maybe your scientists won't be so afraid of you now."

Rodney narrowed his eyes as they proceeded along the corridor. "Isn't it decidedly, clown-like?"

John winced.

"Lucky there's no citrus in these paints or I'd be dead."

"You look alive to me, McKay, so why are we headed to the infirmary?"

Rodney rubbed at a patch of smeared paint on the back of his hand dejectedly. "Those little monsters _attacked_ me!" He gestured towards his face. "This is an attack! They're allowed to paw at me, but I can't shove them out the way because they cry and that makes me a bad, bad man. I just have to sit there and try not to shout at, or _shoot _any of the munchkins as they smear this gunk all over everywhere…" he shuddered.

"But I think it's stained," Rodney continued sadly. "Water didn't get it off, so I'm seeing if Carson's got some heavy duty soap and shampoo."

"And if not?"

Rodney scowled. "It'll be a while before it comes off, and based on my current mood, along with the predicted trajectory of deterioration… Very soon you won't be laughing anymore when you're near me either."

John's face fell.


	83. Sunrise

**Sunrise**

Rodney squinted in the dull light and rubbed his strained and sore eyes. He had been on the planet with the rest of his team for a couple of hours and the large, orange sun hadn't changed position in the sky. At least not perceptibly so.

The whole surface of the planet they had seen so far was composed of rocky desert, complete with a few odd cactuses, and palm trees with the most enormous leaves.

"There are hardy plants on this world," Teyla said as they entered the village and several men came to them. "They can survive with little light, although their useful properties are somewhat limited."

John did the usual introductions and peaceful trader blurb and the men led them along the street towards the largest sandstone hut. The natives were unfazed by the dull light, but when Rodney caught a glimpse of their eyes, with the enlarged pupils and extra-wide crazy look, he drew back from the slightly less human appearance of them all.

"What is this place?" Rodney asked Teyla quietly. "Land of the Perpetual Sunset?"

A nearby man replied, "Actually, the Light Giver is on her risen cycle. She will reach her high point in thirty chimes. She will then once more become the Falling One."

"Chimes?" Ronon asked.

"We measure the passage of time using a mechanical tower gifted to us by our ancestors. We will show it to you once we reach the Elders."

"Sun worshippers," Rodney muttered under his breath. "Great."

Rodney poked at his scanner to see if he could find the clock they had mentioned on it, but he sighed in disgust at the lack of any interesting readings. Instead he asked more about the sun, "How high is 'high,' and does it ever set?"

"High does not provide much more light than this. I do not understand what you mean by 'set.'"

Rodney frowned at him and waved his hand downwards as he spoke patronisingly. "Go under the horizon. Become night. Disappear on a fiery chariot so that stars can be seen?"

The man replied bluntly. "No." He continued in growing hostility, "To speak of such things is a curse among us."

Teyla moved closer to Rodney, and Ronon and John drew in towards him too.

"Those who talk of night must be silenced. They must be vanquished or they will spread the darkness and doom amongst us."

Rodney didn't like where this was going and the group stopped. There was a brief glint of the dull orange sun on a piece of metal shaped like a sickle moon, and then Rodney saw it flashing towards him with a whistle.

It was hard to see in the dull light, but the pain was very real and terrifying. The blade caught Rodney's arm as he lifted it to protect his body. The cutting only stopped when it struck bone. Rodney screamed.

Loud gunfire and bright red bolts flew out all around Rodney as his world became no more than a hazy void, darker than it had been with the light. The bloodied blade moved in the air towards him again. In the confusion and panic, it narrowly missed his chest, but the razor sharp tip still struck a blow just beneath his ribs, pushing through his tac vest and he fell down and rolled away.

He could feel the blood rushing out of him where he twitched, and rocked, and clutched his wounded arm tightly to his chest so that his elbow pressed against the stab wound in his middle to try and staunch the flow.

What had they done to him? Several horrifying options sprang to mind immediately - abdominal aorta rupture! Liver perforation! Severed arteries! That didn't make him feel any better. He rapidly and frighteningly lost the last of his waning strength in order to keep moving and became still.

The pain blossomed and spread, lightening to an intense sharpness that left him gasping. It was as bright as the fully risen sun the people of this world would never know. It was horribly unpleasant, and Rodney hoped he was going to pass out soon or get shot up with enough morphine not to feel anything.

Bandages replaced his hands and elbow to press against the wounds, and there was a tiny sting, almost inconsequential to the rest of the hurt. All the sound and light faded away, along with the pain. The ground was replaced by reassuring words and encircling arms that bore him up and away from the hard surface and madness of before.

Rodney thought that he, of all people, shouldn't be able to get hurt and bleed like this. And certainly not die. He was a genius. His intelligence should have protected him from such a primitive death. He should be immune to all pain and injury because of it!

He chuckled humourlessly and passed out in the strong arms of his team.


	84. Who?

**Who?**

Rodney learnt something new about himself almost as soon as he arrived on Atlantis. If there was a way to save everyone, even at the cost of his own life, he would do it (certain personal shields and energy sapping monsters coming to mind).

Whatever possessed him to do such a thing, he would never know. The adrenaline and righteousness clouded his usually unflappable sense of self preservation. He couldn't justify it to anyone after the event (and cheering) was all over, even to himself.

He then found that he would also sacrifice his life if it was ever a choice between himself and the lives of his team, just as he hoped they would for him, if it ever became necessary.

But his current dilemma was a new one. Every member of his team was in jeopardy, taken to different areas of the compound after he had been shoved out of harm's way into a ditch, and therefore not seen and captured. He only had the strength and time to save one as he stood in the courtyard and pondered - time that was rapidly running out in the turmoil.

It was a problem greater than any scientific or mathematical conundrum he had ever worked to solve.

Who should he save first? The first would be the one who definitely survived, even if Rodney didn't.

Sheppard? Cocky pilot, loner, frequent verbal sparring partner who equalled even Rodney, but also with an authority problem that wasn't so much a problem now that _he_ was in charge.

Ronon? With his strange energy blaster and unwavering loyalty. He may not say very much, but his survival and fighting skills had enabled him to live for so long on his own.

Teyla? Leader of her people, ever calm and reasonable, with her sticks and skirts and scary Wraith DNA.

But then Rodney discovered that he didn't _really_ want to get hurt and die to save his team, or even to save the world. Like all creatures, he had a healthy fear of pain and death, and knew it was to be avoided at all costs.

He should just run back to Atlantis like the coward that he was and call for backup, by then it would be too late for the rest of his team, but at least his sorry hide would be safe and sound.

It was his mind that forced him to do it. Sure, he wouldn't be around in any solid form to experience the praise, but he would prefer not to be the one with all the guilt and grief either, which would be as strong as the physical pain he was about to endure.

It _had_ to be done, but it still came back to the initial dilemma: who should he choose?


	85. Light, Part I

**Light (Part I)**

A beam of light suddenly zapped out towards Rodney from the small, round flying drone.

John quickly shoved the oblivious scientist out of the way, making him fall into the undergrowth with a grunt. John took the brunt of the beam's impact and instantly crumpled.

Ronon and Teyla were already shooting at the flying ball until it exploded with a pop and shower of fire.

Several more came, and were quickly dispatched.

Rodney extracted himself from the strategically placed thorn bush tearing at his clothing, skin and hair. He crawled over to John's still form, and braced himself for what he was about to meet. His mind was filled with images of smoking holes and death that made his heart leap into his throat and pulse hard against the side of his neck.

But none of his fears became reality.

As he looked over John's still form, he saw no visible wounds anywhere and he was still breathing. Rodney flinched as warmth blazed across his back. He covered John with his own body and a moment later small pieces of shrapnel landed on him from the latest drone to get on the wrong end of the combined fire of Teyla and Ronon's unstoppable wrath.

"How is he?" Teyla asked.

Rodney swallowed and pushed back until he was kneeling over John. He reached out and found a rapid pulse on John's neck. Nothing was broken or burnt or bleeding, he was just unconscious.

"I don't know! We need to get him back!" He continued muttering under his breath, "I'm not a medical doctor, how am I supposed to know?"

"Are they Wraith?" Ronon shouted.

"I don't think so," Rodney said, flinching as another drone exploded nearby. "The scanner showed they're made of an alloy associated with Ancient tech. Most likely an automated defence mechanism from the outpost."

"You carry, we'll cover you," Ronon called out.

Rodney grimaced, "I can't carry him! I'll break my back!"

Teyla said, "Rodney, you must. We cannot carry him and cover you at the same time."

"I'm not such a lousy shot! Not anymore."

Teyla dispatched another drone. There seemed to be a never ending supply of them and the last beam had come dangerously close to hitting her. "Rodney, _please!"_

"Alright, alright. But I'm going to be in traction for months after this and it'll be your fault."

Rodney positioned himself and lifted John up onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He staggered under the weight and would've collided with the nearest tree had Ronon not pushed him so that the phenomenal burden he now bore was balanced.

"Now get back to the gate, as fast as you can," Ronon instructed. "We'll be right behind you."

Rodney grunted and stepped forwards, his legs were already hurting and his back felt compressed into a single bone. His ribs creaked and his shoulder throbbed. He took a few more painfully slow steps and muttered, "And you say _I_ eat all the time! Seriously Sheppard, you need to lay off the food, you weigh a tonne!"

He huffed and puffed as Ronon gently shoved him in the back, "Faster, McKay."

Too breathless and pained to reply, Rodney stumbled and staggered, his ears full of the sound of rushing blood, gunfire and pops as more drones died in fireballs behind him.

He soon felt light-headed as his lungs laboured to get enough air, but his ribs wouldn't expand far enough with the dead weight slung over his shoulder forcing him to bend, and he faltered.

"Just a little further, Sheppard," Rodney whispered. "Gotta get you back. If I do, I promise I'll never call you scrawny again."

The mutterings helped to take his mind off the long and weary road, and he soon found himself able to jog forwards, although gasping for breath. The pain in his legs was intensifying with each jarring impact and it felt like his muscles were pealing away from the bones in his lower legs.

He grimaced and mumbled, "Weeks of physio, here I come. You'd better be grateful for this when you decide to come out of dreamland, Sheppard."

Rodney barely registered the sound of the gate activating and the hand on his free shoulder guiding him forwards.

A flash of light later and Rodney was back in the gate room of Atlantis. The medical team were called and Ronon and Teyla tried to free him of his back breaking burden. It felt like Sheppard was glued to his shoulder – a part fused with him that he couldn't relinquish.

"That is it, Rodney," Teyla said. "We are home. You may let John go now."

He found then that his legs really couldn't take any more, and the weight slipped off into the waiting hands around him. Rodney limped a few steps, feeling like he could fly, he was so light. But he was unable to take the pain in his legs and back anymore and fell into more outstretched arms and was quickly placed on a second gurney and whisked away.

TBC


	86. Weeks, Part II

**Weeks (Part II)**

As Carson was busy with Sheppard, Rodney was assessed by another member of staff in the infirmary.

Doctor Parkins, or Parker, or something, did a full examination and Rodney hissed when the prodding focused on his legs, back and shoulder.

"Can you stand?" the man asked.

Rodney staggered upright with a huff. "This is a waste of time! What's wrong with Sheppard? You should all be helping him!"

The doctor eyed him critically. "The Colonel is in good hands. My current concern is with you, Rodney. How are your legs?"

Rodney fought to keep his balance and shifted weight between each leg in turn. "They're fine. Now go and help Sheppard."

"They don't _look_ fine. I'd like to run a full scan to rule out anything other than muscle strain."

"There's nothing wrong with them! I'm awake and coherent, which is more than can be said about suicidal Sheppard."

Doctor Parkins narrowed his eyes and said, "If you can make it to the scanner on your own, you may do what you like."

Rodney muttered, "Finally, some sense!"

He took a tentative step forwards, and promptly his legs gave out and he collapsed into the waiting arms of Doctor Parkins. He called a nurse over and together, they helped a very reluctant and red-faced Rodney into a wheelchair.

A few minutes, a scan, and much complaining on Rodney's part later, Doctor Parkins had the results. "Both of you lower legs are showing hairline fractures from the strain they were put under. I'm going to have to splint them for a few weeks and I want you off your feet for the next few days."

"Splints?" Rodney said quietly. "Off my feet? How am I supposed to work?"

Dr Parkins came back with the nurse and the wheelchair.

Rodney eyed the chair in trepidation. "But there are steps everywhere! How am I supposed to get to the main control room?"

Both the doctor and his companion looked on him in sympathy and wheeled him away for splinting.

xxxxxxxxxx

As soon as Rodney's legs were well wrapped and he'd been given some pills for them, his back and shoulder, he got Ronon and Teyla to wheel him over to where Sheppard was resting.

Carson was there and looking pensive, not always a good sign. He brightened when he saw Rodney. "How are you doing, Rodney?"

"I've been better. Thanks. It might've helped if Sheppard weren't so heavy." He stopped and looked guilty. "So, uh, how is he?"

Carson sighed. "We don't know. We've run every scan in the book, but as far as we can tell, there's nothing wrong with him."

Ronon grunted, "Except he won't wake up."

"Aye."

Teyla asked, "Might it help if we were to retrieve one of the devices that caused his unconsciousness?"

Rodney grimaced as Carson replied, "Well, we're at a loss, so anything at this moment would be a great help."

Ronon nodded, "We'll speak to Weir."

Rodney furrowed his brow down at his wounded legs and sighed.

Carson saw his melancholy and said, "You're not going anywhere, laddie. Not until you can carry yourself on your own again."

Rodney nodded to Teyla and Ronon. He spoke in heavy sarcasm. "You can go. Don't worry about me and my _multiple leg fractures_. I'll keep an eye on sleeping beauty."

Rodney sighed sadly as they left him in the wheelchair beside John's bed. He leant over and whispered into John's ear, "You'd better wake up before my legs get better. Than at least you can feel bad for making me hike all that way with you slung over my shoulder and crushing my legs and back."

John didn't move, so Rodney sat back and waited for something to happen, all the while a gnawing fear gradually built up inside him.

xxxxxxxxxx

A week later, and Rodney was still sitting beside Sheppard as he slept the slumber of one who seemed near death.

But there was nothing wrong with him. Even the slightly beaten up, but still functioning drone Ronon and Teyla and their crack squad of marines had brought back hadn't revealed any more information. Rodney had studied it intensely when he was not studying Sheppard's still form with the same fearful intensity.

Rodney was in the wheelchair, but Carson wanted him to try the crutches as soon as he felt able.

Rodney didn't want to walk on fractured legs, thank you very much, so stayed in the chair. That way, he could also be near Sheppard and let his heart be pulled apart in the stream of conflicting emotions running through him all the time he sat there.

Rodney chewed on his lip and twisted his hands in his lap.

He was angry that it was John's fault his legs and muscles were hurting. He was annoyed that John had pushed him out of the way – it should be _him_ in the bed, unconscious! But then he felt guilty and sad that he was angry and annoyed at John – after all it was John who was still sleeping and possibly hurting in ways no machines could detect.

Was he trapped in nightmares? Was he dead? Then Rodney felt terror at what John could possibly be going through – perhaps a fate worse than insufferable physical pain, because there was no escape from the mind once someone had become trapped.

Rodney's breaths quickened and his heart fluttered in his chest. He quickly swallowed and blinked back the panic.

It had only been a week. Sheppard would be fine if he just snapped out of it! There had to be something about the device Rodney had missed. That was it, John was going to be just fine.

xxxxxxxxxx

By week two, Carson and his staff had had enough of Rodney hanging around and discharged him with crutches and physio exercises for his back and shoulder to make them better.

John slept on oblivious to the deterioration of Rodney's mood. He therefore didn't know about the sense of failure Rodney felt at not being able to find the technological fix he needed to reverse the effects of the device.

The team had gone back a second time and blasted all the way to the complex, pulling data crystals and bringing them back. There was so much information it was as overwhelming to Rodney as the thought of John Sheppard never waking up.

Rodney soon snuck back into the infirmary and took up his sentry position by John's bed. He had his tablet and found the rhythmic sound of John's breaths to be motivating, but not as reassuring as he imagined. He thought he could sometimes hear hitches and changes in the pattern, and his heart rose in hope. But when he looked up, John hadn't moved and his face was smooth.

A whirlwind of emotions ran through Rodney at every hour of every day. Fear that Sheppard wouldn't wake again, hope that he'd come to the infirmary one day and find him awake to immediately start throwing affectionate barbs at each other. Blind terror that it was Rodney's failure that had caused it and made him as good as the murderer of his best friend! Relief when he found a new piece of data he hadn't seen yet – this would be the one to solve everything! Only he was always disappointed.

Who was he supposed to bounce ideas off? Who was there to understand the scathing sarcasm and not take everything to heart without reply? No-one. Only John.

The emotions swooped down until he choked on them. Rodney held his chest to try and loosen the constricting band around his heart, while tears of frustration pricked the corners of his eyes in confusion.

There was a lump in his throat and tremors ran through him, upsetting his legs and abused muscles. He felt sick and the air thinned until he couldn't breathe quickly enough to get what he needed.

The next thing he knew, there were hands on him and a voice floated down and forced its way through into his fractured mind. "Breathe. Breathe deeply with me."

That was when he realised that he had fallen and was lying on the floor flailing like a landed fish as he struggled for breath in panic. Strong and firm hands helped him to sit upright and held on.

A calm and soothing male voice with a pleasant lilting accent made him want to obey the gentle commands that reached his ears. "In... and out. That's it. Now keep going, or you'll be joining the Colonel."

"Carson?"

"It's alright, Rodney. You don't have to be strong _all_ the time. You are allowed to break, just as long as you can be fixed."

Rodney nodded slowly and allowed the infirmary staff to help him up into the chair again. Carson kept a hand on his unhurt shoulder and they both looked at Sheppard's still form.

Carson spoke, but his words were for Rodney. "When was the last time you slept a full night?"

Rodney hummed.

"Had a proper meal? Have you done the exercises for your back? Do you use the crutches? Or are you denying your body these vital things to find some way to punish yourself unnecessarily for this," Carson waved down at Sheppard.

"How do you…? Have you been following me?" Rodney said angrily.

"No. But you just revealed that my suspicions were correct."

Rodney grumbled.

"Get a good meal in you. Have a whole night's sleep."

Rodney moved to grab the laptop he'd dropped, but Carson was able-bodied and faster. "And leave that somewhere and forget about it, just for one night."

"But Sheppard…"

"He'll still be here in the morning. And the next day. It's no good working yourself to death with worry and guilt. That won't help him at all."

Rodney nodded and yawned. He took the crutches Carson handed to him and hobbled back to his quarters, his mind still buzzing, but slower than before and less urgently. There was plenty of time.

xxxxxxxxxx

Rodney had his splints removed before Sheppard woke up, several weeks after the incident on the planet. His legs were still sore, but supported him without the crutches even when the splints were removed.

There had been talk of transferring Sheppard back to Earth when the Daedalus arrived in a couple of days. They didn't want to risk the stargate in case it made his condition deteriorate.

Rodney was working day and night to find a cure to wake him up. He forwent sleep and food until he was about ready to collapse. He scoured the database for anything that would help. Teyla and Ronon helped where they could, reading through articles he found, desperately trying to find anything useful.

Major Lorne had reluctantly taken over as military leader of Atlantis, but refused to reform SGA1. Rodney was still not signed off anyway, and although Ronon and Teyla still went offworld with other teams, they had already expressed their reluctance to do anything without Sheppard and McKay.

Rodney had been subjected to the 'just give up and let it go' speech, but that, if anything, made him work even harder. He didn't sleep, but fell unconscious wherever he happened to be at the time his mind and body gave out on him.

xxxxxxxxxx

"It's not a Wraith stunner," Rodney said across the cluttered table in one of the labs. "It's something the Ancients developed as a defence mechanism. There must be a way to reverse it. But, as usual, the Ancients forgot the instruction manual."

"They must've known how to do it," Ronon said with almost as much as annoyance as Rodney had just voiced.

Teyla pursed her lips into a thin line of anger and frustration as she glared down at the screen in front of her like it was the most heinous Wraith foe she had faced. "I cannot believe the Ancestors would let us down in this way. There must be something here that can help John."

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Perhaps we've been going about this the wrong way!"

Ronon and Teyla paused and looked across at him in less hope than they had the first time Rodney had had 'an idea' several days ago now, which had come to nothing.

Rodney's eyes moved quickly, but he wasn't reading. "When you went back to the planet, did anyone deactivate the defences?"

Ronon replied, "No. We went in, shot the drones down. One of your guys pulled the crystals and we came back."

Teyla said, "You think that by shutting down the defences, John may wake up?"

"Well, I'm all out of ideas," his words ended in a panicked squeak as his voice broke. He cleared his throat and continued with more control, "Unless you can think of anything else in the one day we have left before the Daedalus takes him away and he gets consigned to some military hospital to languish forever unconscious, alone and forgotten."

"I would not like that to happen," Teyla said quietly.

Ronon nodded, "Not a soldier's death. He'd hate it."

Rodney stood up and said, "We have to go back there now."

"But you are still unwell," Teyla said.

"We can take a Jumper."

Ronon and Teyla stood up in solidarity. Ronon said, "Let's get Lorne."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Absolutely not," Elizabeth said. "Since the last trip there, and with Sheppard's condition as it is, the SGC has ordered that no-one is to set foot back on the planet ever again."

"But it's the only way," Rodney whined.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him across the conference table. Lorne was there and Ronon and Teyla flanked Rodney in support.

Elizabeth asked, "Do you know that for a fact?"

Rodney looked away and spoke under his breath, "Well, uh, no. But the benefits far outweigh the risks!"

"Many more people lost instead of just one? I want him back too, but not at the risk of losing all of you. I'm sorry. The answer is still no."

Teyla said, "You must let us try. Neither Ronon or myself answer to Earth's rule." She glanced at Ronon, who nodded back. Teyla lifted her head and said, "We will go alone without your blessing if we must. But Dr McKay must come with us to shut down the device."

Rodney said, "It's what he would do for us, for _any_ of us, and for you. Why can't we return the favour just once?"

Elizabeth sighed and clasped her hands together. "I'm sorry. As much as I want John back with us... The Daedalus will be here tomorrow. You can discuss the matter with Colonel Caldwell then, but I don't think he will be swayed either."

The meeting ended on that low, and Rodney, Teyla and Ronon walked down the steps in the gate together in pensive silence.

Lorne went past them and pushed a piece of paper into Rodney's hand. He didn't say anything or acknowledge what he had done.

Teyla spoke into Rodney's ear, "Not here."

In a deserted corridor a few minutes later, Rodney uncurled the note where he stood with the remainder of his team. The missing member was a constant reminder of what was at stake.

He read the note out loud, "Tonight we go. Jumper Bay at 2am."

Ronon actually smiled, and Rodney widened his eyes in fear at the toothy grin. Ronon patted Rodney's back gently. "We'll get him back. See."

"But Elizabeth…" Teyla said.

"Huh, we'll sort things out with her later," Rodney said. "When Sheppard is back with us."

"And if it doesn't work?" Teyla reasonably asked.

Rodney replied in resignation, "Then I hope our prison cells are near to each other."

xxxxxxxxxx

"What about us being ordered not to go back?" Rodney asked Major Lorne as he led them into the Jumper.

Lorne gave him a sly look. "I haven't had any such order. I can only directly obey my own chain of command."

The other four marines crammed in the Jumper nodded.

Rodney smiled. "Nice."

Carson was also in the Jumper, with the ever unconscious John Sheppard on a low bed on the deck. "Why I agreed to this, I'll never know," Carson said with a hint of panic in his voice.

"It'll be fine," Ronon said.

Carson glared at them all and his eyes settled on Rodney. "And you certainly shouldn't be here! Your legs cannae take the strain."

Rodney smiled back at him nervously. "They feel alright today."

"You have got permission for this?"

"Uhm," Rodney shrugged.

"Oh no! No wonder we're bloody sneaking out in the middle of the night!"

"Say that we kidnapped you or something, doc," Lorne offered from the pilot's seat.

"Feels like it sometimes," Carson said dejectedly.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lorne parked the Jumper right outside the outpost.

Mutterings emanating from Rodney filled the interior of the ship, as he stumbled towards the rear hatch. "Don't know why we didn't use a Jumper the last time. Would've saved my legs and Sheppard's head."

Lorne left two marines to guard the cloaked and sealed Jumper with its precious cargo of Carson and John, while Teyla, Ronon and Lorne, along with two other men loyal to Sheppard, protected Rodney as they entered the outpost.

The walls were overgrown with vines and moss that had encroached during the thousands of years it had been abandoned.

Drones screamed at them and started to attack. Rodney grimaced as the sound of deafening amplified gunfire echoed in the corridor as they progressed.

"The main control room is just ahead," Teyla said between bursts of bullets.

Rodney waved his scanner. "I see it. Where are they all coming from? Surely enough have been destroyed to exhaust the supply? Unless they're self replicating or there are hundreds of thousands of them."

"Less talk, McKay," Ronon said.

Lorne joined Ronon, "Just get the things out of the sky."

Rodney found the control room and went straight for the main console. His gene made it light up the moment he touched it. He tapped a few buttons and flinched away from the explosion near his head and the shouted, "Sorry!" from a marine.

Rodney grumbled under his breath, which helped to focus his thoughts to find a way through the maze of code and useless information to find what he needed. "It's encrypted. Stand by."

Hands pushed Rodney down to the ground as a beam of blue struck the wall right where he had been standing. The jarring impact on the floor was painful, but not as bad as being shot into an everlasting coma, but Rodney didn't think so. He shoved Lorne off with a huff, "What the hell did you do that for?"

Lorne helped him up. "You're welcome, McKay."

Rodney scowled, but another burst of gunfire and bang nearby shook him out of the reverie and sent him back to work faster than before. They would eventually run out of bullets unless he found a way to turn of the defences.

"Teyla's hit!" Ronon shouted.

Rodney's still-healing legs shook in time with his hands where he was trying to stand up and type without falling down.

The gunfire lessened until it was just the sounds of Ronon's blaster. Rodney turned around to find out why that was, just in time to see the last man standing other than himself get struck by the light and fall down.

The drone circled overhead, hunting for a victim, and Rodney's eyes widened. He rolled out of the way as a beam lanced out towards him. He landed heavily and lifted his P90, peppering the thing, along with a lot of wall behind it, with bullets until it fizzled out and fell down.

He gasped at the scene before him. All the others were out. He was utterly alone and he could hear more drones coming.

He typed and typed, desperately trying to find a way to shut the drones down, but it was going to take time for his to decrypt the sequences required to do such a thing.

He gritted his teeth and sweat rolled down his face and arms making his hands slippery, slow and uncoordinated.

The malevolent whirring of several drones entered the room and Rodney turned just as they all fired directly at him. He dropped down to the ground as the beams flew into the console he had just been working on.

He raised his gun, but the drones had frozen, and slowly sunk down to the ground, inactive.

"Huh? What the…?"

Rodney's entourage were waking up and he straightened up and looked at the console to find a smoking hole in the surface where the drones had shot it up. They'd destroyed themselves!

Rodney laughed nervously. If he'd known it would've been that easy, he would've just sent the military types to effect their usual solution of grenades, bombs and guns.

He helped the others upright. They were none the worse for wear for their little nap. Together they went back to the Jumper to see if the deactivation had had the same effect on John.

The hatch opened and Rodney grinned when he saw Sheppard sitting up with Carson holding a bottle of water out to him. "That's it, just a little bit. Your muscles will take some time to get used to moving again."

"How long?" John croaked as his eyes caught sight of his and Lorne's team entering the Jumper.

"About four weeks."

"Weeks?"

"It's okay," Carson said. "Just lie back and get some rest and we'll soon have you home."

John frowned, "You know, I don't feel sleepy at all. I don't think I'll ever sleep again after that.

Rodney yawned and blinked languidly as he perched on the edge of the bench with Ronon and Teyla while Lorne flew the Jumper back to Atlantis.

Rodney said, "Speak for yourself. I haven't slept at all for the past few weeks. Carson, can you admit me to the infirmary, preferably in an isolation room where no one is allowed to get in?"

Carson furrowed his brow. "I don't think we're going to be let off that easily."

Rodney grimaced, but John smiled.

Elizabeth and Caldwell were going to be mad, but when they saw that John was safe and well, he was sure they could be convinced that it had been worth it.

Especially when everyone on Atlantis backed them up.

xxxxxxxxxx

End of two parter

_A/N - I feel kinda bad for asking, but is anyone able to medically beta-read a chapter for me? Dr Wikipedia is sadly lacking... Please PM me with your email if you can. Thank you!_


	87. Brown

_A/N – Thanks for the beta offer, **shropdoc**! Your email address didn't come through properly in the message (you have to write it out in words like: name dot name at provider dot com) I couldn't PM you back…_

**Brown**

"Hey!" Rodney cried as Ronon splashed him with mud where he was hoofing along the footpath.

Ronon shrugged.

Rodney himself was so busy glaring at Ronon, that he stamped into a deep puddle himself. John got hit this time.

"Hey!" John called out.

Rodney picked his foot out with a disgusted sigh and huffed, "Yes, I am _deliberately_ walking through the muddiest puddles I could find!"

Teyla was following on at a distance, gracefully dodging and weaving her way around the worst of the muck on the 'footpath' and looking on with a half amused expression. So far, she had barely a single splatter of the brown stuff on her and looked as though she was inclined to keep it that way.

She walked with a serene, cat-like grace, with the foresight and evasive skill to avoid every puddle and the softest mud and she was therefore relatively clean, with barely a single spot of mud above the line of her boots (only those from Rodney's unceremonious splashing).

"Could be worse. It's not raining," Ronon pointed out.

Rodney glanced at him and promptly sunk down into another foot swallowing pool. This one was so deep that it went above his boot and he grimaced and planted his other foot nearby to prevent himself from falling into the muddy quagmire. Unfortunately it was a fairly large area of soft mud, and his other foot also sunk down until he was completely stuck.

He grunted and tugged, but only succeeded in what he'd been trying to avoid at all costs. He overbalanced and tipped forwards, far enough that he had to put his hands down to save himself. He lost his hands in the mud along with his feet and got splashed in the face.

It no longer looked like his clothes were black, he was so covered in streaks and splotches of filth.

Ronon and John were quick to rescue him and he very nearly lost his shoes in the nasty slurping suction as he was pulled free.

Teyla kept her distance, but stood ready to intervene if anything untoward happened.

Rodney wiped his mucky hands on his equally mucky thighs and mumbled, "This is horrible. This is never going to come off and we're not even at the village yet. Why are we here again? How are we going to get back? I feel like a mud monster and this stuff's really heavy and most likely poisonous too."

Ronon slapped him on the back with a squelch.

John glanced back at Teyla in her cleanliness and then to Rodney. "Maybe you could follow Teyla? She seems to be avoiding the mud pits."

Teyla nodded, "I believe that would be wise."

Rodney came over to her, his face now had streaks of drying mud smeared across it. Teyla quickly sidestepped as though he had a contagious plague and said serenely, "Just not _too_ close."


	88. Square

_A/N – I hurt my wrists and I'm moving house… so here's a couple I wrote a while ago_

**Square**

_Small, trapped, tight, dark… w_ere some of the terrified thoughts Rodney had running through his head. His breaths echoed loudly back at him in the enclosed space.

"Using up air, using up air…"

His panicked internal mantra mostly shouted other things though.

_Stuck! Cramped! Airless! Asphyxiate!_

He could not get out and he knew the oxygen was rapidly running out. He closed his eyes and drew his knees up towards his chest. He breathed, "Wide open spaces. Wide open spaces."

It did not stop the wild beating of his frightened heart trying to escape the cage of his ribs, nor did it slow the onset of the panic attack going through him in undulating waves.

If no-one got him out soon he knew he would hyperventilate what little air was left in the cubby hole and then he would not be able to breathe at all. His imminent future was one of gasping and slow suffocation.

How did he get there? He had just been walking along one of the corridors on the way to the main science lab. He remembered he had been carrying a cup of coffee and reading a tablet.

The memories helped to calm him down. If inhaling and exhaling in half second bursts was in any way calm.

There had been a sharp shove, his feet had gone from under him, and then had fallen into the wall. His gene must have opened a panel or something, because the next thing he knew, he was in darkness. As he fumbled around in the pitch black for anything to release himself, he had felt the cubic walls all around him. He was sitting on the floor and there was not even enough space even to stretch his legs out.

He was stuck in a gloomy box not much larger than himself, curled up tightly to suffocate and die. Even with all his limbs drawn up so that he was as small as possible and taking up as little space he could, he would never survive this. Death by panic!

The dark little hole was getting smaller all the time.

He imagined a squad of marines passing by had picked him off. It was so easy for them, because they all knew his deepest, darkest fears. Rodney could not keep his mouth shut for a moment. He could not keep a secret and his face or voice, or stupid betraying jittery hands always gave him away if he tried to lie. Stronger people often took advantage of that to get a reaction in their torment of him. They always won.

It was like being back at school. He knew the marines had orders to shield him from all danger, but Rodney knew none of them actually _liked_ him, they were just doing their jobs. So when there was no obvious danger, they reverted to who they truly were. Marines vs Scientists, and in a game of bravado Rodney always lost. He wondered if Sheppard would have been the one stuffing him in a locker if he did not have orders to protect the civilian scientists. In another time or situation, perhaps, but not in this reality.

He was too scared to look around and pressed his eyes more tightly closed. All he could do was listen to his whooshing breaths as the sound of each one was bounced and amplified off the walls back at him.

_In. Out. In. Out._

_Stop._

Rodney held the last one and gritted his teeth. He released it, "This is ridiculous."

He opened his mouth at the same time as he pried his clenched eyes open. He drew in a breath in fright as the darkness enveloped him even with his eyes open.

There was something though… a tiny point of light and salvation he had not seen while his eyes had been turned inwards in panic. His ragged and dizzying breaths slowed ever so slightly when his eyes adjusted to the gloom and he saw it.

He peered at it in sudden hope and used the new strength to calm his breathing and heart. It was a small square of white on the one of the walls. It was so dull that he had not seen it before.

"Think, think, think," he muttered. A cold sweat drenched him, but his breathing was now steadier, but shaky.

"Oh! Radio!"

Now that he felt a little better, he fumbled around and eventually found the tiny piece of plastic under him on the floor. He clutched it tightly, channelling all his hopes and fears into the small device and only lifeline.

His hand trembled as he clipped it behind his ear. "McKay to Sheppard!" he cried. "Help!"

He then muttered, "Okay, that probably sounded more panicked and crazy than I had intended." He sucked in a deep breath and eyed to sliver of light.

"Get a grip, McKay!"

How could he be so clever, but still get blindsided by such irrational, primal fears? It made no sense and even when he was most afraid, he cursed it and his humanity. He should not have such a weakness, he was too intelligent to let himself go like this!

He spoke in a wavering, but quieter voice, "McKay to Sheppard? John, are you there?"

There was still no reply. Rodney's Ancient gene was not opening the door he had fallen through, no matter how much he wanted to escape.

He lifted his hand away from his knee and waved it across the light.

Nothing happened.

He tried to override his fear with curiosity and reached right out with his trembling fingers and touched the place where the light was.

The panel slid open and he tumbled out into the corridor.

He stood up quickly and brushed himself down. He covered his eyes in the sudden bright light and swayed as the head rush threatened to take him down. It passed and he drew in deep lungfuls of cool, sweet, clean air as his frayed nerves wove back together. He was free!

He opened his eyes, but there was no one around. He glanced at the wall, and saw that the panel was now back in place.

He looked around some more and spotted his coffee cup, complete with puddle of now-cold liquid caffeine. His tablet had also skittered along the floor and ended up by the far wall. As he scrutinised the crime scene further, he spotted another shiny patch on the floor right where he had slipped.

It looked like water, but he could not be sure. He hummed and tugged his uniform jacket down and smoothed it out nonchalantly. His hands were still shaking slightly, so he clasped them together.

So, no one had pushed him, but he would have to have a word with the maintenance crews about mopping up spillages and find out some more about that vanishing wall.

He gathered up his cup and computer and walked away with his eyes on the floor this time, paying attention to where he was going.


	89. Tri Angle

**Tri-Angle**

Rodney McKay could be seen as a deeply rude and annoying man to those who didn't know him. Petty, arrogant and bad with people - his _best _qualities always seem to get him into trouble, usually with marines. Then he had that way of his, the way he would keep on digging when all was already lost and he hadn't even realised...

xxxxxxxxxx

_Petty_

Rodney shouted at the man in the mess hall, "The last one! Why did you have to take the _last_ chocolate muffin? I'm right here a metre away quite clearly aiming right for it, and the next thing I know, it's on _your _plate. Haven't you eaten enough already?"

The man was about a foot taller than Rodney, and at least twice as wide with muscle. Rodney swallowed and backed away a little with his eyes darting for an exit, but he just couldn't help himself. Despite the physical disparity between them, when he had a valid point, he wanted to press it as hard as he could.

"Well, don't come complaining to me if I'm too hungry to save the city next time. I have to eat too!"

The marine glared at him before stalking off.

Rodney didn't get a muffin that day.

xxxxxxxxxx

_Arrogant_

"I'm here to help," Major Lorne said as he came into the lab where Rodney was working alone. "The Colonel sent me to make sure you were alright. You know you really shouldn't be alone in an uninhabited part of the city."

Rodney glanced up at him and hummed before going back to the computer.

Lorne ignored him and stood guard. Rodney shifted uncomfortably.

Sparks started flying from the console and Rodney huffed. Lorne came over and Rodney glared at him and shouted, "I don't need your help or Sheppard sending minions to check up on me! I can explore and analyse without you or anyone else interfering."

While he shouted, the sparks increased and the ominous crackling was accompanied by the pungent smell of ozone. The Major suddenly crouched and rushed forwards, his shoulder hit Rodney right in the gut. He flew backwards in a whoosh of breath, and a whirlwind of flailing limbs, and landed heavily on his back with a grunt. Lorne came down on top of him.

Rodney coughed once he had his wind back and shoved at the chest of the man pinning him down. "Wh-what was that for?"

The Major rolled off and helped Rodney upright. The console was now black and there was an electric scorch mark on the floor and walls – right where Rodney had been standing moments before.

Rodney didn't speak for at least ten seconds.

xxxxxxxxxx

_Bad with people_

Rodney ranted, "Stop staring at me and keep digging out that other console."

The marine assigned to watch over him in the offworld Ancient lab had a spade out and had been in the process of shovelling a ten thousand year old dirt pile from where Rodney deduced there was another console, while Rodney himself worked on the one already unearthed.

But the marine had stopped for some reason, so Rodney, ever the master of tactful and polite delegation had started at him. And continued… "I'm a genius remember, unlike you and your fellow jarheads, I actually _have_ a brain. A very important and valuable brain. My hands are required to release the intelligence within, therefore I can't possibly help you." His voice rose in fear, "I might break a fingernail!"

The marine rounded on him. Rodney seemed oblivious to any danger.

"Why are you coming over to _me?_ In what way do you think you could possibly help me with _this _console? Do you have any concept of Ancient coding? Do you have the Ancient gene, hmm?"

Rodney turned away and kept tapping on his tablet hooked up to the console he was working on as he continued his mutterings under his breath. "It's your job to do the grunt work, heavy lifting and digging and shooting and such. You're just the paid muscle and I'm the brain."

The next thing Rodney knew, there was a solid thumping sound, the world spun around (not at his behest) and he landed on the floor with a sudden sharp pain lancing through his stomach.

The marine drew back for another strike, aiming a foot at Rodney's exposed midsection, but stopped when he saw Rodney was gasping for breath and could no longer speak to berate him.

After a few seconds, Rodney sucked in a breath and reflexively curled himself inwards, arching his back away from the pain.

"You broke my ribs!" he ground out breathlessly. "I've got internal bleeding!"

The marine glared down at him one last time, and then marched off, leaving his victim to lie there in misery. But Rodney still had his radio and cursed himself for not realising it sooner.

A few hours later and Rodney was being prodded by Carson in the infirmary. Sheppard had already caught and locked up the man responsible - the marine had still been fuming and stomping around the place, so not that hard to locate.

"No internal bleeding," Carson assured Rodney as he did his examination. "But that's a heck of a mighty bruise and you'll be sore for quite a while. Why did he hit you?"

Rodney glared back and said patronisingly, "I don't know!"

Carson said, "Can I assume that it was because you were being your usual charming self?"

Rodney grunted angrily and tugged down his shirt while Carson pressed painkillers into his hands. "Take it easy for the rest of the day and call me if it gets any worse. Try not to upset anyone else for at least a week."

Rodney nodded numbly and let Carson help him upright before he left the infimary and headed back to the labs.


	90. Dinner

_A/N - My wrists are a lot better now. Not 100% but fine enough to blitz the final eleven of these thingies :)_

**Dinner**

Another offworld mission, another meet and greet. Rodney sighed before he nibbled into something that tasted quite similar to chocolate.

Perhaps it wasn't too bad after all.

All Rodney had to do was munch away and let the others do the talking. The food was enough to keep him occupied, but he occasionally had a surreptitious glance at his scanner anyway, just in case an energy reading suddenly appeared. Eating would only last so long and then he'd be bored again.

He absently picked up another mysterious item of delectable delight and sniffed it for citrus. Despite being told none of it had any in, it was _his_ life and he didn't trust anyone and never assumed just on their say-so. He had to be sure himself.

He was still staring at the scanner when he bit down. There was a horrible grinding crunch in his mouth and he yelped around the bite. The pain got worse and he had to spit out the food. His mouth felt full of metal, what the hell had he just eaten? Raw meat?

The room was silent, and Rodney's eyes were tightly closed as he screwed his face up and clutched his mouth with both hands and moaned. To hell with decorum, what the hell had they fed him?

Even after he'd got rid of it, he shuddered and winced as it still felt like someone was twisting a metal spike shoved in the gum near one of his upper right teeth. More metal had got in his mouth somehow and he grimaced and spat.

"McKay, what's going on?" John asked.

Rodney narrowly opened his watering eyes and had to empty his mouth that was filling up with blood again. He realised that meant only one thing - it was _his _blood! He was going to bleed to death. That thought made him feel shaky and sick.

Ronon stood poised with an epi-pen out, Teyla was holding a bandage, and John was looking awkward while the natives watched them, some in horror, and others in fury. Only the leader looked calm and neutral.

Teyla handed Rodney the bandage and he shoved it in his mouth, grateful that the blood was now being absorbed and not spat or swallowed. The taste and the pain combined to make him nauseous and he struggled to keep his stomach contents in place.

Ronon used the end of the injector to poke through the food on the table and a few seconds later, he brought up a tiny white object. A piece of his tooth! Rodney had lost a piece of tooth!

He winced and gagged and Ronon quickly hid the missing piece of Rodney's very personal property before he got to the spewing stage.

Teyla broke the silence as she realised what had happened and turned to the leader. "We are truly sorry, but it seems our friend is hurt. We will need to return home."

Rodney had his mouth blocked up with bandage, so couldn't talk. His whole face felt like a throbbing mess now and he still felt sick from the bloody taste. He used his tongue to tentatively explore his mouth and found a jagged edge where the tooth had broken right down to the gum.

The leader nodded and pointed to the offending article Rodney had bitten, "Although your companion thinks otherwise, the table decoration is in fact inedible."

Ronon smirked and patted Rodney's shoulder gently, "He'll eat anything."

Rodney glared at him and said indignantly, "Not citrus!" But it came out as, "_Mmmfffss_!"

xxxxxxxxxx

They reached the gate just under an hour later, and Rodney could barely move his jaw it was so swollen.

Once back on Atlantis, Carson did a quick exam of Rodney in the Ancient dentist's chair, which was frighteningly similar to an Earth one, and then Dr Biro approached.

Rodney's eyes widened as he pulled the bandage from his mouth and said, "Wha..? Car'on?

"Sorry, laddie, I'm a doctor, not a dentist. Dr Biro is not only a pathologist, but also an experienced dentist."

Rodney tried to get away from her and her equally sadistic looking assistant in his fear. His only experience of her was when she was enthusiastically doing autopsies on his scientists during the outbreak in their first year on Atlantis.

So he was surprised at the words she spoke, even though she used her usual brusque manner, "Ate something you shouldn't have? Just lie back and relax and we'll soon have you feeling better."

There was always some shock on Rodney's part in her direct, no-nonsense manner, but then Rodney himself knew that he spoke in a similar way. He was intelligent enough to inspire safety, even though he knew he had poor communication skills, so he of all people should have felt safe with her. After all, Carson had chosen Dr Biro to come with them to Atlantis.

She was gentle as she held his face and injected the anaesthetic into his gum. After the initial sting, numbness spread out and Rodney relaxed and closed his watery eyes to clear them.

Rodney had always thought Biro was an overenthusiastic butcher who took too much delight in carving up the dead, but he didn't feel a thing while she worked and soon he felt as safe with her working on him as he did with Carson.

Maybe his tooth _was_ going to be alright. He _would _eat again.


	91. Touch

_A/N – A Suspicion tag..._

**Touch**

Rodney's whole body tensed up as the lightning passed through and engulfed him from the Wraith weapon shot to the face he'd taken. His muscles abruptly relaxed after the overload and he no longer had any control of them. The only thing he could do while his consciousness faded was fall down to the floor, his limbs now the consistency of overcooked spaghetti.

And in that moment he was sure he was going to die.

Therefore, Rodney was surprised when he woke up in the infirmary an unknown amount of time later. The medical team were using sure and firm hands to hold him, check him over for injuries and change him into scrubs. He couldn't feel what they were doing, or move at all, but he could see it.

A few minutes after that and he was sitting propped up in a bed with an IV line he couldn't feel stuck in the back of his hand. John and Carson spoke to him while he was paralysed, numb and drooling, but he couldn't even get his mouth to form words they understood.

He was still terrified, despite Carson's reassurance. What if it was permanent? Without contact with Earth, would this bed where he lay become his new home?

At least he wasn't on a Wraith ship. He was afraid, but couldn't even contemplate _that_ alternative. He couldn't have a full on panic attack though, as the movement of his chest and breathing was suppressed by the numbness, only his eyes were mobile as he darted them around and trusted in hope to the mercy of the infirmary staff.

What if he suddenly got the feeling back and it _hurt?_ Would they notice he was in pain or just ignore him?

"Tell me…" Carson said, looking down on Rodney in compassion after John had left. He quickly changed his tack, "Let me _know_ if you're in any pain. A moan will do."

Rodney wasn't too keen on being Carson's lab experiment, especially not for the as yet unknown effects of an alien weapon on his central nervous system. He may have volunteered for the gene therapy, but this was very different.

Although Carson tried to hide his excitement, and still treated Rodney like a _person_, rather than a test subject, Rodney knew better. And thoughts and deductions were all he had to keep him occupied while he lay there and waited for something to happen, for better or worse.

Carson kept coming over and asking if Rodney could feel this, or that, claiming the whole time that he was just touching Rodney's hand or arm or leg, with a cheerful and airy, "Make a noise if you do."

Rodney suspected needles might be involved, not enough to pierce skin, but enough to hurt the next time he was poked if the feeling ever came back. Yet he still couldn't feel a thing. The attention was good, as it lessened the terror very slightly.

A while later and Carson was standing there commanding, "Wiggle your toes. Good. Fingers? Yes!"

The sensation did eventually return as neglected and numb nerve endings suddenly activated once more, and it didn't hurt as much as Rodney had dreaded. It was more like a bout of all encompassing pins and needles - an unpleasant prickly, itchy feeling all over his skin, like a swarm of insects crawling across his body. But Rodney couldn't move to scratch it, so he had no choice but to bear it in discomfort and try wiggling his painfully tingly appendages to speed it up.

A hand held his sometimes to check the sensation and asked him to squeeze back if he could while he thawed out. It took a long time before he had sufficient feeling in his numb fingers before he could even feel the warmth and touch, let alone return the pressure of the grip.

Rodney scowled with a loose jaw when Carson next came over, beaming at him, like _he_ was the one who could now move after being floppy and limp and fearing that he might never move again.

Rodney spoke slowly, his rubbery lips still figuring out their way around the numbness, "Can I 'o 'et?"

"A couple more hours at least, just to be safe. I don't know if there'll be any secondary effects. It'd be best to wait and run some more scans."

"Oooka…"

Carson patted Rodney's shoulder, and much to his relief, Rodney felt it.

No, it had been a close thing, but maybe he wasn't going to die.

At least not this time.


	92. Shade

**Shade**

"The Wraith are coming! Run faster!" John shouted.

Rodney squeaked in fright and increased the speed of his darting between the ground level Wraith shadows flitting about like dark clouds of impossibly fast moving smoke. He couldn't help firing his gun at a few of them, thinking they were Wraith coming to suck him dry of life, even though in his mind he knew they weren't.

The jumper was close. Teyla and Ronon were nearby. But the darts screaming overhead threatened to scoop them all up and take them away.

Teyla and Ronon made it back to the Jumper before John and Rodney. And the moment the last two members of the team arrived, John pushed Rodney through the open hatch while firing his gun at the shadows that could have been concealing warriors.

John pushed past the others into the cockpit and took the pilot's chair. The hatch was still closing, courtesy of Rodney's frantic hand slam on the controller, when one of the shade-like Wraith shadows entered the ship.

Instead of disappearing like they thought it would, it passed into Rodney who had been standing right in the way. A chill went through him, like he had just stepped into a freezer, but instead of vanishing, it stayed around him and he felt the cold pierce his chest, settle over as heart and squeeze.

The moment the hatch closed, John cloaked the jumper and flew it up off the ground. By now Rodney was on the deck with Ronon and Teyla hovering anxiously nearby. They were unsure whether it was safe to approach him, but could clearly see he was in distress as the Wraith shade turned out to be not so much a shadow, but almost like a living creature.

John shouted from the cockpit, "What's going on back there? Can you tell if the cloak's working, because they're still following us!"

Teyla called back, "Something is wrong with Rodney. I have never known the Wraith ghosts to settle over a person like this. I thought they were just projections, perhaps even mental hallucinations, but this one seems to be feeding off Rodney and it will not let him go!"

"They must be tracking us somehow using it," Ronon added.

Rodney was shivering on the deck clutching his chest while the shadow around him grew darker.

Teyla crouched down and reached out to him while Ronon mumbled, "I wouldn't touch him if I were you. We don't know what it's doing to him or what I could do to us."

Teyla said, "We have to do something or it could kill him."

She gently brushed her fingers over Rodney's forehead while his lips trembled and he shuddered and gasped, "So cold... this endless death... so lonely and cold."

Teyla moved her hand down and took one of the hands he held against his chest in her own. It was a struggle to pry away from him, but once she had a hold on him, she squeezed tightly and didn't let go. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a steady breath. A few seconds later, Rodney stopped shivering and the colour gradually returned to the air surrounding him as the shadow faded away.

Teyla smiled down at him when Rodney opened his eyes and he peered back at her nervously.

"T-Teyla?" he said through quivering lips. "What happened?"

"I believe the wraith mental projection somehow followed us inside the jumper and latched onto you. But I was able to send it away. You are safe now."

John shouted back from the cockpit, "We've lost them. How's McKay?"

"He's alright," Ronon said.

Rodney looked less certain, so Teyla squeezed his hand again and said reassuringly, "I believe Ronon is correct. I no longer sense any wraith presence within you."

Rodney blinked back at her in horrified shock, but let her help him up from the deck. She led him back into the cockpit with Ronon following and Rodney thumped down into his seat with wide, unblinking eyes and ghostly pale skin.


	93. Not Enough

**Not Enough**

There were many things that Rodney would never do. He had already resigned himself to his fate. Not that the hope could ever be utterly destroyed in his heart. He had just been looking for so long.

He would never get three ZPMs. It was not enough for him to have a single ZPM. He needed three or he would never be able to put in motion all the plans he had. Although he would never stop searching for the glowing glass objects, he suspected that even if he ever did get his hands on more than one, it wouldn't be enough and he'd always crave more.

He would never be able to eat citrus without dying. Or get stung by a bee and still be able to breathe moments later.

He would always be annoyed with his irritating, intellectually challenged staff as they struggled to comprehend technology the way he did, which often left mere mortals flummoxed.

Never would he not be afraid and have nightmares about Wraith or small enclosed spaces crushing him to death.

It was not enough for his team that he complained loudly about every tiny pain he suffered - splinters and papercuts. Only to be stoic about the bigger things, usually when no-one even noticed. Bullets and arrows pierced his body, but he hardly said a thing after the initial shock and teasing wore off.

There was not enough detail in the Ancient database. Most articles were worse than useless, written by those whose minds were already wandering to new ideas and places the moment the subject of those articles had been explored and tested. He would've thought the Ancients could at least have left behind a schematic for creating unlimited ZedPMs. That would've been the considerate thing to do, although dangerous if the Wraith got their hands on it.

Puddle Jumpers weren't quite enough for Rodney, not when he discovered there were Ancient warships out there somewhere, rusting away into memories and dust. The unspoiled ships he had seen were soon destroyed before they reached their full potential. Sure, the Daedalus was _nice_, but it wasn't Ancient, and there was no wealth of new knowledge and tech to be pulled apart to be studied. The Travellers had some, but they were like flying homes, and that woman Sheppard liked had laughed openly at him when he'd asked that one time. She might have mentioned chairs and ropes and hitting him too, and Rodney quickly vacated the room.

Was it enough to be in a different galaxy? Was it enough to be in the city of the Ancients with a whole civilisation's worth of knowledge and tech at Rodney's fingertips to occupy his busy mind? Was it enough that the Wraith also had a whole different wealth of tech to be probed, explored, catalogued and prodded?

Rodney didn't think so.

There was always more out there. More to be seen, more to do, more to learn and figure out. He struggled with the sheer amount of knowledge there was to fill his mind with before it overflowed. Not that he didn't try. He had to face up to the fact that perhaps ultimately there was _too_ much out there for him to know and comprehend, and that in the vast scheme of things, he was only a solitary man with a single lifespan. And what he craved was the knowledge of all races, and that of all the people of those races who cumulatively numbered in their billions.

He wanted to know it all.

But that was impossible.

Even for a man such as Rodney.


	94. Hours

**Hours**

"So, we're heading down to the basement?" John asked as he entered the lab and honed in on Rodney.

His target scowled and gathered up his tablet computer and toolkit. "We? I'd intended on going alone. Unless you think I need my hand holding?" Rodney's eyes flashed dangerously, baiting him to reply.

John stopped and dug in, ignoring Rodney's crack. "Well, I haven't got anything else to do. Who knows what's down there. Could be Wraith hibernating, giant rats, killer robots…" He raised his eyebrows as he counted things off with his fingers.

Rodney frowned back, but then his expression softened, "Alright, alright. You can come. But I swear you'll be bored. I'm just going to check out a lab we looked at last week. As far as we could tell there was nothing in there to worry about, but it's just powered up on its own."

They left the lab together and headed to the nearest transporter. John was fully geared up as though he was about to go into battle, with tac vest, P90 and sidearm.

John asked, "Why not take a whole team?"

"Everyone's busy working on the water tanks. Half of them have broken down in the last few days." He sighed. "Either it's old parts or someone pressed something they shouldn't have as usual."

John glanced over at Rodney, properly looking at him for the first time that day. He frowned in concern over how pale Rodney's skin was, and the dark circles around his red eyes.

John asked quietly, "Have you had any sleep at all?"

"What?" Rodney snapped back with less bite than usual. "I think adequate drinking water is more of a priority than sleep at the moment!"

"Not if you work yourself into exhaustion."

They entered the transporter and Rodney huffed as John relieved him of the heavy toolkit, but the scientist didn't protest.

It was late afternoon, but the moment they stepped out of the alcove at their destination, for all intents and purposes it could've been the middle of the night. They must've been below the water line, either that or in a building locked place the Ancients decided didn't need any windows.

"So, what's the plan then?" John asked in an upbeat voice as the lights reacted to the ATA genes in both men and the corridor flooded with illumination.

"Turn it off and figure it out later when the water tanks are back online."

"Should only take a few seconds," John said, falling in step beside Rodney as they went along the corridor.

A few minutes and many turns later and Rodney indicated a door to the right. "This is the one."

He bridged the crystals and the door swished open. John watched in mild concern as Rodney's eyes lost their sparkle and he blinked slowly. He quickly shook his head and peered into the room.

Taking his cue, John passed the toolkit back to Rodney and went in first, scoping out the room with his P90 leading the way. It was just like all the other labs they'd found, but there was a pipe going from floor to ceiling through the middle of the room, about a metre in diameter.

Seeing nothing untoward John called back, "Clear."

"Of course it's clear," Rodney grumbled. "There shouldn't be anything switched on in here, and no reason it should be draining any energy or causing all the lights on the scanners."

"Any ideas what it's used for?"

"Not yet," Rodney said, going over to the only panel in the centre of the room – on the side of the pipe - and plugging in his tablet computer. "We came across it on a routine survey, downloaded some data and added it to the list of stuff to check out if there's ever a time when there isn't an imminent life threatening crisis."

Rodney sighed wearily and John eyed him critically again. He looked tired and drawn, like he was barely able to stand. John had also experienced the tiredness that he saw in Rodney, the feeling as though he no longer had the strength to stand or move or even push doors open. It just wouldn't do, Rodney had a whole team of genius scientists at his disposal. Just because he was their leader, didn't mean he had to supervise everything or feel that he had to do all the work himself. John certainly didn't even dream of going on all the military missions, or looking over the shoulders of the men he placed on night duty.

Rodney rubbed his eyes with a visibly trembling hand and huffed angrily as his fingers skated across the computer screen.

John looked to the pipe in the middle of the room as it started to glow red and an audible hum could now be heard coming from it.

"What's going on?"

Rodney glared at his computer, "Looks like a heating element of some description, possibly a part of the stardrive, but there's something wrong with it. I'm just shutting it down now."

John frowned when the hum grew louder. "McKay?"

"What?"

"It's getting louder."

Rodney snarled, "And the weekly award for stating the obvious goes to…"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence because the hum cut out and then the pipe exploded.

John was hit by a wave of air and heat and was thrown back into the wall. In his fading sight he saw Rodney, who had been standing right next to the pipe, take the brunt of the explosion and meet the same fate as Sheppard. The door to the room slammed shut, and the last thing John knew was the room being filled with alarms and flashing lights before he lost his tenuous grip on consciousness.

xxxxxxxxxx

When John woke up, it took him a while to remember where he was. He head throbbed and his back ached, making him nauseous. His arms, leg and face were stinging and sticky.

"Rodney!" John said and snapped his eyes open.

Alarms were silenced by his thoughts, and the lights stopped flashing and returned to a less headache inducing intensity. He tapped his radio for help, but the earpiece was missing and a shard of metal in his tac vest had smashed the main part.

The pipe in the middle of the room had shattered, but because they were not cooking, John deduced that Ancient failsafes _sometimes_ worked.

Then John spotted Rodney. The scientist was lying on the floor on the far side of the room, and hadn't moved. John stood up and moved shakily over to him, noting that Rodney's chest was still rising and falling, albeit shallowly.

"McKay?"

John crouched down next to Rodney and patted his deathly pale face ever so gently, away from the cut on his forehead, before resting his hand on Rodney's upper chest. "Wake up McKay and let's get out of here."

Rodney didn't move and John frowned at the dampness he felt under his fingers. He turned his hand over and started at the bright red blood. He checked Rodney over more thoroughly and found that there were several small pieces of shrapnel embedded in his chest, abdomen, arms, legs… everywhere.

John looked at himself too, and the stinging pain sharpened when he saw that he too had bits of metal from the pipe sticking out of his skin at strategic intervals. Only John's armoured tac vest had protected his torso from injury, but Rodney only had his jacket and shirt, and the metal had easily sliced through them.

The wounds weren't deep and the bleeding not too severe, so why hadn't Rodney woken up yet? John pressed his fingers to Rodney's neck and found a weak and rapid pulse against his clammy skin.

Rodney's radio was missing too, so they couldn't call for help.

Rodney lips parted and a small moan issued forth. His eyes cracked open and he frowned up at John, "Wha-huh? What happened?"

"The pipe exploded," John said, glad that Rodney was waking up.

"Pipe?"

John frowned, "Did you hit your head?"

"I, uh, I don't think so. You, uh…" Rodney blinked slowly and stopped speaking with a confused expression.

John moved his finger in a circular motion, "Are you going to finish that sentence or leave me hanging by a thread?"

Rodney frowned again and a tremor shook his body where he was still lying sprawled out flat on his back. His stomach audibly lolloped and he winced. "You don't have any food on you do you? I'm about ready to chew my own fingers off."

"No."

"Oh, um, okay."

John asked, "When was the last time you ate anything?"

Rodney narrowed his eyes, "I don't know. Might have been breakfast, I can't remember." He smiled, but there was no mirth in the expression. "I think I woke up in the lab again this morning. Radek got me coffee." His voice lowered considerably, making John lean right in to hear what he said. "I don't remember there being any food. We're just too busy."

"But that was ages ago! My watch's broken, but we came down here after three o'clock. That's well over seven hours, possibly even longer."

Rodney's eyes slowly drifted shut.

"Oh, don't think you're getting away with it that easily!"

"Feels like my heart's about to explode like that pipe."

John frowned in exasperation, "Perhaps if you'd eaten something, we wouldn't be in this situation."

Rodney's eyes opened again and he said angrily, "So, you're blaming me for the explosion too?"

"Honestly, McKay, I don't know what to think. I'm going to try the door, see if we can drag your sorry ass out of here and to the infirmary."

Rodney shut his eyes and his voice became weak, "You do that."

John tried the door. He did the crystal bridging thing, thought it open with all his might, pulled it with his hands, even hit it with the butt of his P90 for good measure, but the thing wouldn't budge.

He went back to Rodney's side and sat down. Rodney blinked at him languidly and reached up with trembling fingers. "Tablet."

"Broken."

Rodney's hand lowered down to the floor.

"They'll send someone to check on us when we don't report back, even if that explosion didn't light up their screens."

"That could take hours."

"I know," John said.

Rodney was looking thoroughly miserable and grimaced as he shivered again.

John fought through his anger at Rodney's neglect of his own basic bodily needs to ask, "Apart from the cuts and hypoglycaemia, are you hurt anywhere else?"

"My back hit the wall. It hurt a bit, but now it's just numb."

"Can you wiggle your fingers and toes?"

"Hello, intelligent man here! That's the first thing I tried!" Rodney said angrily. "It's getting harder to breathe though. Whether that's because my blood sugar's bottoming out or if I busted some ribs and got a punctured lung, I can't tell. My whole body's just sorta numb and floating now."

John grabbed Rodney's shoulder, "No drifting away on my watch, McKay."

"I know, I know. Not your fault though. All me. All me. Don't blame yourself for this."

"As if I could, when it's so _totally_ all your fault."

"Ah, such wonderful sympathy. My heart swells with the comfort and love I'm being showered with."

"Good, as long as it's still working, that's fine."

John had a suspicion that when Rodney was born, all the attribute points given to create a man such as himself had gone towards his intelligence and mental capacity. Therefore there hadn't been much left over for his physical components, hence all the mild psychoses, charming personality and medical conditions he possessed. It was the cruel way the universe had decided to compensate and balance out for the brilliance.

Rodney's eyes started to drift shut again, but he sucked in a noisy breath as though he'd been startled and they snapped open. "Chocolate muffins," he said quietly, his voice trembling in time with his body.

John frowned, "What?"

"Blue jello."

John smiled, "Lemon meringue pie."

Rodney jabbed a finger into John's leg weakly. "Yuck. Trying to kill me much?"

"I've got an epi-pen on me."

Rodney's face twisted and he moved a hand up over his chest, avoiding the shrapnel wounds. "I swear my heart would explode right out if you stabbed me with that thing."

Rodney sighed and rubbed a hand over his face to clear the gathering perspiration. He frowned at his hand and blinked slowly in puzzlement. His eyes went wide as they tracked around the room. "I'm going to die aren't I?"

John glared down at him, "No. You're not."

"Well, that's not completely true is it?" Rodney's voice lowered sadly, "No-one lives forever."

"Get back to the game, McKay. Sausage rolls."

"Those little Christmas tree decorations. Why is it they always taste better than normal chocolate?" Rodney moved one shaking hand up and tried to touch his face again, but missed.

John grabbed Rodney's hand and lowered it to the floor as he said, "Try not to move. They'll be here to rescue us soon. Perhaps talking about food isn't the best way to pass the time. What did you find out about this room?"

"That it has an exploding pipe in it!" Rodney snapped back, his face contorted in fury. "Lousy stupid useless Ancients. What the hell were they thinking, creating a wondrous blowy uppy room?"

"It's okay, calm down. You're expending way too much energy being angry."

"I'll expend all the energy I want, thank you very much!"

John knelt beside Rodney and gripped his shoulder again and didn't let go. Rodney's face was scrunched up in pain and John felt the tremors increasing where he held on tightly. John said sternly, "Don't do this to me, Rodney."

But he couldn't do anything at all as a convulsion wracked Rodney and John had to back away, knowing that if he tried to minimise the flailing by holding on, not only could he get hit, but he could hurt Rodney too.

Once it passed, Rodney's head fell to one side. The rise and fall of his chest slowed as his breaths became inaudible. "Damnit, McKay!" John shouted as he knelt right over Rodney and grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking the man roughly. "Stay with me!"

Rodney's eyes cracked open, but his expression was blank.

John said, "Easter egg chocolate! That tastes better than the usual crap too."

Rodney reacted to that and his eyes drifted lazily up to John's face and locked with John's eyes, before they fluttered shut again and he exhaled.

Just then a hissing sound started from over at the door. "What now?" John asked the unresponsive Rodney. He turned to the door and watched as an orange light slowly tracked around the edge of the door.

"Blowtorch."

John shook Rodney's shoulder again and then rested a hand on the scientist's chest to feel the rise a fall and assure himself that Rodney was alive. "Just a few more minutes and then you'll be safe. Don't sink down too far into dreamland or you'll never get any blue jello, muffins or any of those other highly healthy things you love to eat."

The light reached the end of its journey and a solid clang reverberated through the door. Another two more and the door finally gave up and fell down.

"Over here!" John called as a couple of marines came in followed by Carson and a medical team.

John indicated Rodney's still form, "He's in a bad way."

"What happened?" Carson asked as he took in the bloodstained Sheppard and the even bloodier Rodney.

"He hasn't eaten for a while."

He carried on talking as Carson barked out orders to his team and they quickly cut away Rodney's sleeves and inserted IV lines into him. "He was being a bit strange, well stranger than usual, even for Rodney. Then he had a convulsion and has been unconscious since."

Carson and his team secured Rodney on a gurney, careful of the metal still poking out of his skin and Carson said to John, "Let's just hope we got to him in time. You come with us too, Colonel. Let the cleanup team sort out this mess."

John nodded numbly and did as he was asked. Had it been too long? Now that Rodney had gone so far as to fall unconscious, could they bring him out of it? John's insides twisted at the idea of losing Rodney. He was fairly certain that the medical team could keep him alive, but what if he didn't wake up? Would they have to decide whether to let him go?

John wasn't really paying much attention as a marine explained that the explosion had been seen instantly in the Control Room and they got there as fast as they could, considering the whole level was locked down.

xxxxxxxxxx

John grimaced as the sadistic nurse with the giant tweezers tugged the metal out of his arms and legs.

A similar procedure was being done on Rodney in the next bed over. Except there were far more chinks coming from Rodney's bed as each bloody piece of metal was carefully removed and placed in the bowl held out.

He heard them talking about stitches and bandages through the curtain enclosing the other bed and dreaded to think what the shrapnel had done to Rodney's pale skin.

John didn't need any stitches, but even with the anaesthetic and large plasters, he was sore all over.

Teyla and Ronon soon joined him, with Elizabeth hot on their heels.

John filled them in on what had happened while they waited for the medical team to finish with Rodney.

xxxxxxxxxx

A while later, the curtain parted and Carson came over to them, his expression tense.

Elizabeth asked, "How is he?"

"Very poorly I'm afraid. We successfully removed all the shrapnel and he's resting comfortably. But he hasn't so much as twitched yet. We're still trying to get his blood sugar level back up to normal levels, and if he does come out of this, I'm going to have a lot of questions about his ability to look after himself properly."

John didn't miss Carson's stress of the word 'if.'

Teyla asked, "Will he be alright?"

Carson sighed. "We simply don't know yet. The only thing we can do is wait and see whether we got to him in time."

Ronon frowned, "So how did he get like this just by not eating? I went for days without food before and survived."

Carson said, "I'll explain it to you later, for now I want to monitor Rodney's condition."

He walked away and left Rodney's team to their vigil.

xxxxxxxxxx

John was sitting with Rodney when Radek came to visit.

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, just watching the rise and fall of Rodney's chest and listening to the steady bleep of the heart monitor. He still had the IV lines and leads all over him, along with gauze pads and plasters where the shrapnel had been removed.

John squirmed guiltily, but he knew he had to ask anyway. "Do you know what happened? Obviously the lab blew up, but is it because of an error caused by him not eating? Is he a liability?"

Radek said, "I have looked through the remains of the tablet hard drive Rodney was working on and the answer is no. No-one could've prevented the explosion, even Rodney fully fed and on one of his most brilliant days, which he would say was every day. He didn't stand a chance."

John sighed in relief. "From now on, I'm going to have power bars stuffed in every spare pocket.

Radek smiled sadly. "He has not woken yet?"

"No."

They sat together for a few more minutes and then Radek said, "Well, I must get back and continue fixing the water tanks." He turned to Rodney and said something in Czech that John couldn't understand before he left.

John leant back in his chair. He was still signed off by Carson because of all his cuts and bruises, so didn't have anything else to do.

xxxxxxxxxx

John woke up from a shallow slumber a few hours later and blinked to clear away the dreams. He was concerned when he realised that his dreams were in fact reality, but then he smiled when he saw a pair of bewildered blue eyes peering back at him unblinking.

"Sheppard?"

"Rodney!"

Carson was there in a flash, checking monitors, asking questions and shining that flashlight of his into Rodney's eyes and making them disappear behind closed lids as his nose wrinkled.

John watched apprehensively and then Carson turned and beamed at him. John felt a knot loosening in his chest and smiled back.

Rodney had already drifted off into normal sleep and let out several amusing snuffly snoring sounds as he slumbered, making John's grin widen.


	95. Winter

**Winter**

Tree skeletons in outlines of ice were all that Rodney could see. The whiteness spread and grew all over everything, coating the world in a layer of frozen mist in the harsh chill of the perpetual winter of the world he was visiting with his team.

Ever the stoic and steadfast explorer, Rodney sniffed and announced loudly, "I'm cold." His teeth clashing together quickly and noisily as his jaw betrayed his trembles.

His eyelashes stuck together with each blink and his hands were red and numb, even with the thermal gloves on. He felt it prudent to share this information with the others. They had a right to know after all, and maybe he could get some sympathy for his multitudinous discomforts.

His breath was coming in shaky pants of fog, the heat and moisture becoming visible to watch as it tracked upwards into the clear blue sky. But the sun was cold, even in the bright wintry light.

"Not only am I cold," he sniffled again, "But I think I'm _getting_ a cold." He trembled again, the air biting through his thick jacket until his whole body vibrated as it tried to warm him, but failed.

"We've only been here an hour, McKay," Ronon mumbled, his mask muffling the words more than usual.

John added, "I thought sub-zero conditions killed germs?"

Rodney's misery increased. "Not the ones that like to go after me!"

John turned to him, but the goggles and mask obscured his face. "I thought you grew up in Canada. Isn't it cold there?

"Yes."

"Didn't you get used to it?"

"Not really. I was always the sensible guy indoors, in the warm. Doing things far more useful than pointlessly struggling to survive in the wilderness when there was heating and buildings to shelter inside."

Teyla, signified by her being the shortest and smallest of Rodney's well insulated teammates, said, "We will soon be home, where there are hot water bottles and many medicines."

Rodney shivered again and mumbled, "And no jokes about this, or I'll sneeze on something you own when you're not looking."

John said, "No jokes, right. The achy shakes is _not _an Elvis song."

Rodney coughed and grimaced.


	96. Sound

**Sound**

"Ra-ta-tat-tat," John's gun said.

Rodney stuffed his fingers in his ears where he was crouching down behind a boulder. That didn't really do much, so he resorted to clamping his hands against the side of his head, lest the ear splitting racket cleave his valuable brain in two. That meant he had to drop the scanner and the screen went dark.

"Ping ping pop!" The return fire ricocheted off the rock and Rodney cringed away from it.

John's gun hadn't finished its side of the argument just yet though. "Blam blam blam." Pause. "Blam blam blam."

At least on the firing range they had those sound blocking earmuffs. Out here in hostile territory, the gunfire was closer and louder, the smell of discharged bullets and fear overwhelming everything. It was very noisy and very scary. Rodney waited for the moment when one of the bullets would find him or one of his team mates and then the air would be split with another terrifying prospect – pain filled screaming.

John's mouth was wagging up and down, so Rodney lowered his hands for a moment to listen. "I think it's clear, let's get out of here." He pointed to the P90 hanging limply against Rodney's chest, "And use that, McKay! That's what it's for!"

Rodney grabbed the scanner and slipped it into his pocket so that he could grasp the cold weight of the P90. He reluctantly curled his finger around the trigger. It was so much harder than it had been in training, for this time he was going to use it to try and kill others before they killed him. Rather than just popping bullets into a paper target that merely flapped nonchalently in the breeze of discharged shredding metal, his targets now were human beings who bled and felt and died, just as he did.

Rodney grimaced and dashed after Sheppard's boots, thumping and crunching through the twigs and stones on the path. Not exactly a stealthy retreat, but the gunfire hadn't exactly kept them hidden anyway, so it probably didn't matter.

John halted and held up his fist and Rodney slammed into his back, sending them both tumbling. John hissed once they'd stopped rolling and indicated for Rodney to be quiet and listen.

There was an almost imperceptible swishing noise coming from several metres in front of them, either that or Rodney's newly developed tinnitus was playing tricks on him. How on P2X-799, or wherever the hell they were, the Colonel had heard it above the sound of Rodney's stomping feet, he would never know. The man was like a cat, or a dog, or some other animal with better hearing than mere mortals such as Rodney.

John crouched right down in the undergrowth, and Rodney followed his lead, strategically placing himself behind Sheppard. In the tense silence, Rodney thought he could hear his knees creaking under the strain and the sound of the sweat sliding down his face. There was the faint rustle of his clothes as he breathed, along with his heart slamming in his chest. Add to that the vacuum cleaner sound in his head of rushing blood and breathing, and it all combined to such a cacophony that it soon prevented Rodney from hearing the person, or persons, hunting them.

They remained there poised and ready to strike for many drawn out minutes, so long that Rodney thought he could hear the gentle swill of the power bar he ate half an hour ago slowly digesting in his stomach.

Eventually John smiled and his tense frame relaxed a little. "Ronon, Teyla!"

The shout startled Rodney, who fell backwards into the nearest bush with a crash. A moment later, a large hand reached in and grabbed the front of his tac vest and extracted him.

Rodney smiled sheepishly at Ronon and brought out his scanner. "They're all gone. It's just us on here."

Teyla said, "We know, but we could not be sure whether it was you or more of the hunters hiding in the bushes."

John frowned, "That was a big risk to take."

Ronon grinned, "I was behind you."

Rodney quaked, "Glad you're on our side."

Ronon patted him on the back, "You make the noise of many Wraith when you walk. That and the heavy breathing. It wasn't hard to find you."

Rodney grimaced and spent the whole way back to the gate pulling leaves, twigs and moss out of his clothes and hair and huffing every time he did so.


	97. Smell

_A/N – Massive hugs and eternal thanks to **shropdoc **for the medical info and beta_

**Smell**

"Just a sample run," Rodney wheezed and then sneezed. "Nice easy mission." He sniffled and sneezed again into a tissue.

He had once liked the smell of flowers and fresh cut grass, but now it was more like the stench of evil, sinus destroying, nose running and sore eyed hell. His nose closed up as effectively as a peg pinching it and he moaned nasally while pinching the bridge of the offending piece of his anatomy while tilting his head back to try and clear it.

Ronon grunted, "Don't you have pills for it?"

"Yes, but they're… _na-na-nachoo!_ Not working."

Ronon frowned, "We should go back if it's really bad."

"It's just since we came to this flower field, it stinks. Are these things just really ponky or downright rotten?"

"They smell, but it's not bad."

"Speak for yourself," Rodney mumbled and wiped his streaming eyes with another sad looking, half shredded tissue. He sneezed again and stumbled into a nearby flower patch. As he collided with the plants, there was an eruption of tiny pollen dust that floated in a purple cloud around Rodney.

"Cover your mouth!" Ronon shouted through his sleeve, but it was far too late.

Rodney was too busy coughing, sneezing and gasping for breath between the nose hurting explosions to notice. So he took a great lungful of the things, and promptly started coughing with renewed vigour.

Rodney's previously dry hacking took a more sinister turn and blood appeared on his lips and he fell. Ronon caught him and laid him down far away and upwind from the flowers. He tapped his radio, as blood dribbled from Rodney's nose and ran down his chin from his mouth. His eyes were closed and the wheeze had turned into a genuine rattle as he struggled for breath.

"Sheppard, Teyla. McKay's just inhaled some plant pollen. He's having trouble breathing and there's blood coming from his mouth and nose."

"Stay put. We're nearer to the gate, we'll get a Jumper with Beckett."

"Be quick."

Rodney blinked up at him where Ronon had his arms around Rodney's chest to keep him upright and held Rodney against his front to ease his breathing.

"Not… allergy," Rodney whispered hoarsely and inhaled a noisy breath that Ronon felt rattling through his hands.

"Save your strength."

Rodney closed his eyes and his body shook from the force of the coughs that followed, then tilted his body to the side so that he could vomit into the grass. He furrowed his brow and his bloodied lips trembled. Ronon could do nothing more than hold on, and hope that Rodney got the message to do the same while they waited for help.

xxxxxxxxxx

Rodney was taken back to Atlantis with an oxygen mask covering his face. It soon became splattered with bright red blood he choked out. He was weakening as the blood tried to stop him breathing, while the med team held him upright and used IV painkillers and fluids to try and help him.

Carson's heart sank when they got Rodney back to Atlantis and on the scanner, although it cleared him for any harmful contagions that might pass to everyone else. He was still gasping and wheezing for breath and his face had a very unnatural pallor.

Rodney emptied the remainder of his stomach contents onto the floor nearest to him when he needed to. There was blood in what he threw up and his features were pinched tightly in discomfort. Any attempts to speak had been inaudible croaking followed by hearty coughing and more blood splatters. When he was able to catch his breath, his skin went as white as the sheet covering the gurney where he sat propped up.

"I want the isolation room fully decontaminated for use as an intensive care unit," Carson said to his team.

"Already done, Doctor," a nurse replied.

xxxxxxxxxx

Elizabeth, John, Ronon and Teyla were hovering nearby, but all they could do was wait in tense silence until Carson emerged from the room where their team mate and friend was now isolated. Carson's face was ashen and grim as he addressed Rodney's gathered team.

John frowned and asked, "What's wrong with him?"

Carson spoke quickly. "You said he inhaled plant pollen?"

Ronon grunted an affirmative. "Lots."

"He must've inhaled it through his mouth otherwise it would only be his nose we're worrying about. It's irritant and anti-coagulant so he's bleeding internally, in both his lungs and to a lesser degree his throat and stomach. The pollen that reached his lungs has badly damaged them. He threw up what he swallowed, although his stomach lining will be sore for some time, we can cope with that. But lungs are fragile organs once a foreign body is introduced.

John asked, "Can you do anything for him?"

Carson furrowed his brow, "We're dosing him with painkillers, but Rodney's going to have to do most of the work himself."

John frowned. "He'll need our help too, if he's to pull through."

"Aye. We can transfuse blood if necessary to keep him alive and pump him full of painkillers, but it can't go on indefinitely. Eventually he'll be too tired to keep up the coughing."

Carson sighed and looked around at all the faces peering back at him. Rodney's friends, and Carson counted himself as one too, but he wasn't going to lie. "There's no way of skirting around the issue. This is very serious. The next few hours are crucial, and at the moment I'm afraid that if he doesn't show signs of improvement soon, then he could die."

Elizabeth swallowed and Teyla furrowed her brow. Ronon's face remained blank while John frowned and his voice rose, "There must be something you can do! How can you give up so easily?"

Carson didn't flinch, but responded to John's outburst with a quiet and calm voice, "We're not giving up and neither should you."

John's nodded solemnly just before his expression hardened into stoic defiance along with the other members of his team. They weren't going to let Rodney go easily.

xxxxxxxxxx

Everyone on Atlantis watched and waited, and most offered comfort and support as their Chief of Science suffered. Even with the best drugs Earth and Pegasus had to offer flowing through his veins they couldn't mask everything.

The seemingly relentless blood coughing was exhausting and Rodney's eyes watered while he sweated and twitched and choked some more. Sometimes there were long pauses between his coughs, until he became so congested that he couldn't breathe at all and had no choice. He spluttered and winced and wheezed. It was horrific for him, and terrible for everyone else to watch.

His heartbeat was constantly amplified through the monitor's frantic beeping. Although he was on oxygen, anti-emetic, painkillers and transfusions, the taste was still unpleasant and the painkiller couldn't help him breathe properly or fight away the creeping weakness. His face was pale, almost translucent, and etched with slight greyish green around the edges, often turning blue when he stopped breathing for too long.

Any blood that missed the pan held out for him splattered against his chin or the sheets, so bright it was almost fluorescent against the white. He had already ruined large numbers of oxygen masks, scrubs and bedsheets, but there was always a nurse on hand to clean him up and offer a comforting backrub, shoulder squeeze or word. Sometimes it was enough for a visitor just to rest their hands on him, either in his hair or to hold his hand to let him know he wasn't alone and didn't have to be.

Carson would often ask, "Are you in any pain?"

Rodney couldn't reply as he sucked in a shallow rattling breath and tightly clutched the bedsheets under him with his hands.

"Shake your head or nod if you are."

Rodney nodded and shut his watery eyes tightly while Carson injected a syringe into his IV line. He held Rodney's shoulder for several minutes, hoping the contact would do something to comfort him in the trauma of what he was going through. Carson pursed his lips in worry and then went over to where Sheppard was watching him, his face stony to hide the emotion.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was several hours later when Carson called Rodney's team and Elizabeth down to the infirmary. Not that John had been very far away at all.

"There's been some improvement in Rodney's condition," Carson said carefully. "The particles of pollen are tenacious little buggers to say the least, but there's some fight left in Rodney yet. If he continues the way he's going then he'll be coughing out the remainder of the pollen rather than just himself."

John visibly sagged in relief and asked, "Will he get completely better?"

Carson glanced over at the door to Rodney's isolation room. "Well, he's not completely safe yet, and he could still get an infection despite how many antibiotics we're pumping into him. With careful monitoring, we should know soon."

xxxxxxxxxx

A few days later, as Carson had promised, he had a firm update on Rodney's condition to give to the rest of his team. He'd called them to the infirmary to give it, but first he let them look in on Rodney, not that Sheppard could be kept away from his unconscious friend for very long. Rodney was still frighteningly pale, but was now finally able to get some much needed sleep.

Carson said, "He's going to make a good recovery. His mouth, nose and throat will heal up in a few weeks. There'll be some permanent scarring in his lungs, but he'll soon get used to the reduced capacity."

Ronon said, "He'll be worse at running than he already is then?"

Teyla glanced at Ronon and admonished, "We will just have to take better care of him."

John patted Rodney's shoulder and looked at Carson, "Thanks, Doc."

"Well, make sure you thank Rodney too for being as tough as old boots. I was tearing my hair out to watch him going though that with nothing I could do except wait and see if the stubbornness was all talk or if it actually existed."

John turned his attention down to the still form in the bed. "No more flower sniffing for a while then, McKay?"

Rodney's nose wrinkled for a moment and then his face smoothed out. His team around him and Carson all smiled.


	98. If

_A/N - Just a very short one..._

**If**

Why had it taken so long for Rodney and Jennifer to get together after meeting for the first time?

Rodney himself knew deep down inside why he had not said or done anything sooner, despite his undeniable feelings.

For if Carson had not died he would never have even met Jennifer, much less fallen in love with her. Now that Carson had come back it felt okay for him to let her know how he felt openly. No longer did he have to hide or bury the emotions. No more did the ghost of his friend constantly look over his shoulder and say, "I died. You killed me to get this replacement? I won't let you love her or even get close because I'm always here!"

Because in dying Carson had allowed passage into Rodney's life for the most beautiful woman to ever return his affections.

And Rodney couldn't withstand the guilt that squeezed his heart so hard he couldn't breathe.

If Carson had not come back, Rodney would never have been able to let things advance as far as they now had with Jennifer.


	99. Spade

**Spade**

"If you want your trinket..." the captor nearby sneered at Rodney's sweat-soaked and bruised, dusty and exhausted form, "...you're going to have to dig faster!"

The energy reading buried in a field near the village had been intriguing when he'd first arrived with the team, but had quickly become a nightmare, when the villagers turned out to be hoarders and gold diggers.

His team had been captured and locked up. Only Rodney was allowed out as he was the one who had noticed and spoken about the reading.

Now the captors had only felt the need to leave one guard and Rodney had dug out about one digger-scoop's worth of dirt. Any pause for breath or complaint had been swiftly met by a punch, a kick, or even a thrown rock in punishment.

"Screw this!" Rodney thought. Did he have a spade, or did he actually have a handy bludgeoning weapon? His hands were blistered and sore from where he'd been made to dig for hours on end without cease. His muscles were shaking and knotted, but he knew if he didn't do something soon, he would be too tired and weak to try it.

He had already stripped down to his t-shirt, but it was ragged and filthy, and he was fairly certain he was bleeding in places from the sharp stones and hard fists that had pelted his body.

Rodney scrambled out of the hole, no longer caring about any Ancient artifact that might be buried under the soil. It might even be a ZPM, but there were more important matters to attend – like finding and freeing his team before any horrible things happened to them.

The other natives had crossbows, but the one currently guarding Rodney hadn't seen fit to bother holding one. Rodney saw his chance, but when the native saw the look in Rodney's eyes, he dashed over and grabbed another discarded spade and stood ready.

Rodney held his spade in both hands with the shovel end to the right as Teyla had shown him for single staff fighting.

His first swing was deflected, he hit out more like he was wielding a baseball bat, and the shovel head was heavy and he kept going.

The guard was fresh though and used the flat part of his own spade head and Rodney's momentum to smack the metal into his front and he staggered backwards, winded and strangely pain-free. There was a solid crack to his back and Rodney went down.

"_John!"_ Rodney whispered as he spat blood and lay there facedown, breathing the dirt. He tested his limbs in turn to make sure they still worked and they did.

"_Teyla!"_ Rodney said through a sucked in breath and inflated his lungs as much he could through the blinding pain that had finally caught up with him in his front and back. He had broken ribs and vertebrae and bleeding internal organs for sure, but it seemed it was going to take him a while to die.

"_Ronon!"_ Rodney whimpered softly. He didn't seem to be dead though, or unconscious, or fading away. The guard had just left him there and not used to spade head to chop him. There was still a chance and he still had some time.

"Still a chance…" Rodney said, as he gathered his strength and courage together, grabbed hold of his own spade that he had landed on and held on tightly as he pushed himself up.

The guard was still there, but merely watching. At Rodney's partial recovery and continuing threat, he got his spade ready for what Rodney was about to attempt.

The fight was brutal and bloody, and very soon became very painful when Rodney's nerves told his brain they didn't like what was being done to them. He grunted in exertion as he finally struck a blow to his assailant's arm and heard a snapping sound above the metallic clang of the impact. _That_ was going to haunt his every thought for a long time.

He swung the spade round in a graceful arc that would've made Ronon proud and clouted the man under the chin while he was busy screaming. His jaw snapped shut and shattered and he fell down unconscious with blood dribbling from his mouth and nose.

Rodney coughed and blood started coming from his mouth too. He staggered, and dropped to his knees. He shut his eyes briefly and then stood up again. Every bone in his body felt bruised and broken, every rib was stabbing him, every blood vessel was leaking, but he still had a vital job to do. One that was far more important than his own life and sanity.

He wasn't entirely sure how he got to the village and snuck past the guards to free his team, running on pain and adrenaline and superhero-power only. His team needed saving, and he was the only one who could do it.

When the cell door clicked open, three pairs of concerned eyes took him in.

"Rodney? Is that you?"

"What did they do to you, McKay?"

"It's okay, you can let go now. You did_ good."_

He hadn't realised, but he was still holding the spade tightly in his bruised and bloody hands like his life depended on it, which it had a few minutes ago.

He let it go as it was pried from his desperate, sweaty and grimy grasp. And with that, he also relinquished his awareness and crumpled into three pairs of outstretched hands waiting to catch him as he completed his mission and gave up.

John, Teyla and Ronon carried Rodney back to the gate, fighting off the many men that tried to stop them. They were fuelled by righteousness and urgency. Rodney was every shade of black and blue, red and purple. They retrieved their gear and made it to the gate as Rodney's scant unblemished visible skin paled and his shallow gasps became slow, quiet wheezes.

If there was a ZPM in that hated hole Rodney had been forced to dig, they'd come back with a cloaked Jumper to find out and take it.


	100. Thanksgiving

**Thanksgiving**

"How did you get here? Where's Ronon?" John asked a red-faced and breathless Rodney McKay as he met up with him and Teyla in the courtyard housing the gate.

Rodney's lungs were burning and he bent over at the waist with his hands on his knees to try and recover. He gasped, "He left me with First Researcher Loki…" he waved his hand. "Lokeem… or whatever his name was."

Teyla frowned, "Why?"

Rodney straightened up. He was still puffed but he preferred to stay aware for any danger and his eyes darted around their current location in panic.

"He found some nice shiny knives that looked remarkably like his own. I said he could go." He shrugged. "It seemed safe and Ronon's a big boy. He can look after himself."

John looked angry now. "Well, you were wrong and it's not him I'm worried about."

Rodney grimaced and looked down, "I know. They tried to catch me. I thought they were going to skewer me on one of those thin triple pronged spear things. And when I tried to find Ronon, in the confusion I ended up out here, halfway back to the gate."

Teyla asked, "So how did you escape unharmed?"

"Unharmed!" Rodney cried. "I'd not call being punched unharmed! It's difficult to run and hide with broken ribs and an internal bleeder!"

Teyla eyed him more critically and saw that he was a little roughed up, but obviously not too badly hurt.

Ronon suddenly bounded up to them. He was breathing normally and looking like he'd just had a pleasant stroll in the park, which infuriated Rodney who still had a sore throat from his run. The Satedan holstered his blaster and immediately pulled a severe and rather nasty looking notched and twisting knife from his hair. He held it up and slowly turned it over in his hand in awe, making Rodney back away in fright.

Ronon shrugged and said, "Thought I might as well relieve them of it after how they treated us. Left one of mine behind as payment."

Rodney stood up straighter and lifted his chin as he looked around at his team. "What, no jabs about my lack of manliness by running away and not fighting?"

Sheppard frowned and paused, he then smiled and patted Rodney on the back, "That's the best thing to do if you can. Brave men run and live to see another day."

Rodney was confused. He had expected to be berated or laughed at for not being macho. His bruised ego should be in tatters, so all that he could say was: "Oh, um, thanks?"

Sheppard laughed and Ronon slapped Rodney in between the shoulder blades while Teyla looked on with her face torn between amusement and exasperation as the gate activated and they went home.

Fin

_A/N - Wowzas! Finally finished! Thank you to everyone who's taken time to read, and especially those who've let me know and supported me throughout the year and a half (I kid you not) it's taken to finish this challenge! As always, I couldn't have done it without you and I'm already working on my next things :) w00t!_


End file.
